2.07.2017

The Rest of the Story


When your kids are little, you hold a (somewhat) omniscient position. 
You know their lives down to the smallest detail —
This one loves trips to the zoo to see the elephant,
 and that one sobs like the heartbroken inside a drive-through car wash
You know who squeezed all the toothpaste into the garbage can, 
and you know who will tattle at the first opportunity.
You plan where to go, what to wear, and what time to arrive. 
Whatever happens within the family, you're usually able to answer the 
basic questions—who did what, when, where, and how.


Until they grow up, and you learn you were all wrong about the omniscient thing. 
All wrong ... is that really any surprise? 
It is the overarching theme of parenthood ...
My husband and I have recently been introduced to "The Rest Of The Story." 


It's a little like being handed the extended version of a movie you've seen a thousand times. 
Those moments when your grown children reveal extra bits of information, 
adding vibrant, and often hilarious, texture to stale, familiar scenes. 
With any chance of consequences long, long gone, "The Rest Of The Story" 
conversations have been rolling around my dinner table lately.
We usually end up saying something like:
Aha! THAT'S what happened to my brand-new hammer. 
Oh! Now I know why the neighbor always seemed so angry. 
I wondered how the dog got up there!

4 comments:

Peggy said...

We had one of those nights with a familiar Glenn young man who explained the pings I heard about the garden one day, about why the roof went before its time (rooftop bike riding), about where the cool poster from Lord of the Rings really came from. Yes, texture and laughter about all the crazy stuff you just didn't know about.

Carman Hammons said...

Love those boys. I feel I had a small influence on those boys haha

Susan Holt Simpson said...

I've heard about the rooftop biking - YIKES! Apparently, a contest happened here once that involved crossing the roof via bedroom windows. And I thought they were reading ...

Susan Holt Simpson said...

You did, Carman, you did!