The Delicious Lish

DADDY: What’s two and two?

PATCH: (pause) Are we buying or selling?


Yesterday I had my well-deserved Afternoon Without Children. Especially since I had them earlier in the week while the wife was at her sales conference, and extensively later in the week as my wife then had tours of her stores. But before the Afternoon Without Children began, I had to take Patch with me to church and the grocery store because the wife had to stay home with Little One, recuperating from a weekend of headaches, fever, and a sore throat.

Church turned out to be exceedingly long, due to RCIA catechumens receiving baptism and confirmation rites, a long gospel reading, and an even longer sermon. Normally I wouldn’t mind this, but Patch is at that quite unpredictable age, two and a half, the age where there really is no predicting how she will act during a 75-minute mass. Plus, I had a whole bunch of coupons expiring, so I wanted to hit not one but two grocery stores and cash in on over $20 in savings.

Well, my fears, founded as they may be, were forgotten. Patch was phenomenal! What an exceptional, well-behaved little thing. And believe me, that’s not always the case with my littlest firecracker. Somehow, that bribe of [cookie, candy, or chocolate milk] must have registered in that still-developing psyche, and she made me proud. During the peacing at mass, she walked down the length of the pew, extending her little paw and shaking hands with the adults, male and female, in front and in back of her. When she walked up with me in the communion line, she had her hands folded in front of her and smiled ear-to-ear when the priest laid his hand on her forehead in blessing.

At the grocery store she was patient and good-natured, willing to wait until everything was paid for until I handed over her bribe [M&Ms] in the car. * She was mimicking the lady over the PA who announced periodically that order such-and-such was ready and available at the deli kiosk. “Thank You,” they’d both say at the same time, and Patch would crack me up with her perfect timing.

We call her “the Mayor,” for she is super-friendly and has no fear. Little One was intimidated at that age by big men with white hair (i.e., all three of her grandfathers). Not Patch. She’ll chat anyone up (priest, fellow pew people, checkout lady, random customers). When asked her age she’ll say she’s two and hold up all five fingers. But don’t think you can pull any fast ones over on her. She’s perfected the hairy eyeball, the furrowed brow, and the folded arms. I get those looks in various combinations and permutations several times a day when trying to reason with her.

Which leads me to believe she’ll be the tougher of my two daughters. The haggler, as the introductory dialogue is meant to imply. My oldest seems to be more me while Patch is her mom. And her mom is an extroverted businesswoman with dual degrees in communication and political science. In other words, she’s me twisted round 180 degrees. But, as we often caution ourselves, anything can happen in these formative years, so Patch could be and do, quite possibly, just about anything under the sun.

But whatever she does, she’ll be successful at it.



* The wife said, “Can’t you give her a non-caloric treat for being good? Like a sticker or something? She doesn’t fit into any of her 4-Ts!”