Water on the Rocks
It’s seldom that I get a good belly laugh from my husband. It takes a lot to get more than a chuckle out of him. This evening, I got not only a belly laugh, but a throw-your-head-back belly laugh from him.
My five year old daughter came to me as I was sending out some documentation by email. She was in the middle of dinner while I worked in the living room. “May I have some water on the rocks, please?” she asked.
I stopped cold. Surely she had not just said what I thought she had. I asked her to repeat.
“May I have some water on the rocks, please?”
I decided to ask just one more time – just to be sure. “What did you say?”
“I said, ‘Mummy, may I please have some water on the rocks?’” she said, as if she was talking to someone hard of hearing.
Dumbfounded, I asked her who had taught her to say that.
“Mummy!” she said concerned, crinkling her nose and looking down her glasses at me. “Don’t you know what that means? It means water with ice.” My older daughter, who was cleaning out the guinea pig’s cage in her room, laughed.
“I know what it means,” I told her. “Who told you to say that?”
Of course. Who else would have told a five year old child to ask for “water on the rocks”, but my husband.
I got her the water. “Please don’t say ‘on the rocks’ outside the house,” I told her.
“Why?” she asked, ever Miss Curious. “Just don’t,” I told her, not knowing how to explain that folks might wonder what kind of a house she lived in, if at five years old she was asking for something to drink “on the rocks”.
After settling her back at the dining table, I headed downstairs. I found hubby watching a video on his computer. He took his headphones off and raised his eyebrows at me, mimicking my expression.
“So…” I began, “what are you going to do when K is out and asks for something ‘on the rocks’?” I asked him. A mischievous smile started to crack.
“I’ll give her water,” he said calmly. “That’s all she knows – water on the rocks.”
I raised my eyebrows again.
“If she asks for something else, I’ll tell her no.”
I shook my head, and proceeded to tell him what had happened. He let loose with a hearty laugh, rocking back in his chair and throwing his head back. I hadn’t seen him so amused in a while. “She did exactly what I told her to do,” he said, when he had stopped laughing.
“You set me up? You told her to ask me for that?” I asked, wondering why that idea seemed so strange to me. You’d think I know this man after all these years.
“At lunch,” he said, starting to laugh again, “at lunch today she asked me for water with ice. I told her next time she should ask for water on the rocks,” he continued, rocking the chair back again while laughing. “Man, I hate that I missed that!”
“She did exactly what I told her to do,” he said again.
“I hope you’re proud,” I told him, shaking my head.
“You’re d..m skippy!” he said, as I turned to walk off.
My family – we really do belong on stage.
(And yes, I do see the irony in my telling her not to say the words in public, and then blogging about it. What can I tell you? 😉 )
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