Well it looks like we’re going to be plunking down some coin this week on a new (to us) used vehicle. Elise went to the credit union yesterday and got pre-approved for an auto loan. She drove to Waco this afternoon to check out a model that she likes. She’s pretty much sold on buying this particular crossover, but still wanted to test drive a few more.
So tonight she left shortly after dinner to go to the local Carmax dealer to test drive other vehicles in an effort to persuade herself that she needs to shop even more. Maly immediately picked up on the fact that Mommy was going bye bye. She flipped out as Elise left through the front door. Luckily she was easily distracted by me with a game of chase and then a bath.
We did our usually nighttime ritual. Upon reading a couple books together and while she stood by the bookshelf, Maly asked, “Mommy book?” To which I responded, “Mommy went bye bye, but she’ll be back.”
And then I had to see THAT FACE again. She puckered her bottom lip and her eyebrows fell as did her little heart. The only thing I could muster was, “Awww, Sugar, Mommy will be back. She’s coming back.”
Maly ran to me, threw her arms around me, put her head on my should and cried. It was a heartbreaking moment.
After the sobbing stopped, I told her we were going to rock-rock and then go night-night. With her head still on my shoulders, we stood up and I turned of the light. We sat in the rocking chair and rocked. I attempted to recreate the Mommy-Maly nighttime ritual by singing to my daughter.
I couldn’t think of anything to sing other than this:
Hush little Maly, don’t say a word,
Daddy’s going to buy you a mocking bird.
And if that mocking bird don’t sing,
Daddy’s going to buy you a diamond ring.
And if that diamond ring don’t shine,
Daddy’s going to buy you something with even more bling.
And if that more bling ain’t blingin’ enough,
Daddy’s going to buy you a truck built Ford tough.
And if that truck ain’t built Ford tough,
Daddy’s going to buy you a…
And she then pulled her right hand from its spot on the back of my neck and put it right on my mouth, in a very deliberate motion to quiet my song, all while her head still rested on my shoulder.
I thought for a second that maybe it was just her wanting to change the position of her hand, so I restarted my song.
She immediately put her hand over my mouth again. Without having to say it verbally, she pretty much said, “Dad, shut up. You sing terribly.”
It’s looking like we’re going to leave the singing up to Mommy.