St. Natalie

Before you read this post, I'll introduce you to a new term. "Eddie" is my mother's new husband. I won't call him my step-father because a). he didn't raise me, and b). he's only nine years older than me. While my mom wants the kids to call him "Grandpa Eddie," I tell them to call him "Mr. Ed" (of course, of course). It's not that I hate the guy, it's just...well, that's another post for another day when I've had too many fermented beverages.

The story begins after mom and Eddie left following Robbie's christening. They had purchased gifts for Mark and Robbie, but had not done so for Natalie due to not knowing exactly which Hannah Montana DVD's she already had. However, they departed with a promise to send her a gift.

Here's the story, which takes place a few days later (about a week ago).

Natalie, my dear, sweet daughter just the other day looked down in the dumps. My wife asked, "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," Natalie replied." It's just that I broke one of the ten commandments."

"What did you do?" my wife asked.

"Oh, I was jealous because Mark and Robbie got gifts from Eddie, and I didn't," she confessed.

The next time that I get angry with her for whining and such, I hope that I remember her sorrow at having envied. "The faith of a child," indeed. Of course, she ended up receiving a Hannah Montana DVD in the mail shortly thereafter. And, of course, I have at least reminded her three or four times that "Honor thy father" is also a commandment...