From the Mouth of a Babe

Sunday was ward conference. The good news was that our sacrament meeting was our only meeting for the day. The bad news was that it lasted twenty minutes longer than normal. Under childless circumstances this would have been all good, but with a wee babe whose activities must be varied every 30 seconds, the extra time did not go unnoticed, nor did it pass without consequences. Parents can only do so much entertaining with a cardboard book and a plastic giraffe, and Grant eventually had enough. If he were to describe the events of that sacrament meeting in his own words, I'd imagine they would be something like these:

I've been sitting quietly awake in my car seat for at least ten minutes. I think I'll come out now [whine and grunt and arch back]. Thanks for the toy giraffe, Dad; I looove the taste of plastic.  I wonder what will happen if I drop this on the ground [drops to the ground]. Cool, mom picks it up and gives it back to me. I wonder if she'll pick it up if I drop it again. Yep. And what about one more time? Yep. Well, I'm bored of that game. What I'm really desperate to do is gnaw on that green book Mom and Dad are holding. Mom gives me another book, but it's not the big green one, and all I want is the big green one. Oh well, I guess I'll suck on it for a minute. [Yawn, whine, grunt] Tired of this book, tired of this giraffe, tired of smiling adorably at all these people sitting around me. Dad, kindly take me out of here [Dad and I walk toward the door]. Wait . . . Not so fast . . . Hair!  Gray, curly, bushy . . . Don't mind if I do! [Insert fingers faster than the blink of an eye and grab an entire baby fistful. And not let go.] Dad's still moving, but I'm not letting go of this lusciousness! [Seconds later . . .] Dad finally caught on and has loosened my grip. Don't worry, everyone sitting behind us is laughing, and the lady's hair isn't a wig or anything. The disheveled clump remains erect, but no permanent damage done. The moral of the story: Sundays are long for babies. If you make them longer, there's no telling what we might do.

-G.J. Error