My daughter is a yeller.
Neither my husband or I yell, so I am not sure where she gets it. Sure, both of us have been known to raise our voices on occasion (anyone who has children and claims otherwise is pulling your leg).
But yelling? We just aren’t yellers.
The day after my daughter was born, she proved that she has lung power. You have heard those comments about tiny little baby’s cries being compared to a kittens? Not my daughter. Her newborn cries could be compared to an angry tom cat’s howls.
The other night in the kitchen, we heard the garage door go up.
“I think Daddy’s here,” I said to my daughter on the floor at the time.
She stands up and belted out, “DADDY!!!”
Yes, I jumped.
Then there was church on Palm Sunday.
My son will tolerate sitting through a service now as long as he has his good friend next to him and plenty of snacks and books between them.
My daughter is good for about 30 minutes until she bores of the routine.
Thank goodness for the cry room at the back of the church.
We made a hasty retreat when her vocal cords started warming up.
Once in the cry room she realized that she could see Daddy and her brother and the family we are friends with.
“HEY DADDY! I HERE!” she yells. “SEE ME HERE? DADDY! BRODER! HI BRODER!”
Someone was smart when they soundproofed that room.