The Kid has a big voice.
A super big voice.
Most of the time, B and I are telling her to hush. And most of the time, she listens.
For about twenty seconds, maybe less.
I’ll admit that after a long day at work, coming home to her yelling and screaming over something or other is super annoying. But I’ll also admit that there are a few rare days when I don’t mind that I can hear her through my front door.
See, she’ll be four later this year. Next year, she’ll be five. In ten years, she’ll be fifteen. In seventeen years, she’ll be twenty-one.
Between now and when she becomes an adult, she might not talk as often. She might not show her enthusiasm as much. She might not greet me with ear shattering squeals. She’ll decided she’s too old for that and contain her excitement for something else – like her first date or something.
Yeah, it gives me a headache, yeah it annoys the crap out of me.
And call this pre-hindsight or whatever you want. But the day’s going to come when “oh so loud” is “oh so quiet.”
I just want to make sure I remember these “oh so loud” moments. As irritating as they might be, they’ll be gone once she’s up and grown.
Here’s to savoring these snippets of time, to inwardly smiling at them even when I’m outwardly cringing.