I have a tendency to talk with my hands. Not too demonstrative, but sometimes it goes a little awry.
Like last night.
I was sitting with Wallene and Pooldad and we were chatting about our day. When it came around to me I read off the comments from my great Tadpoles wishing her a happy birthday. [She is tickled and sends her thanks!]
One comment was from our best pal, Jeannie. [Hi Jeannie! We love you.] I said to them, "Oh, here's one from Jeannie. You guys know Jeannie."
And, without realizing it, I POINTED AT THE CEILING.
Pooldad started to laugh. Then Wallene began giggling.
She asked me, "Mom why are you pointing to the upstairs?"
I looked at my hand, slowly lowered it and said sheepishly "Because, um, Jeannie lives in Canada?"
They lost it laughing. They KNOW Jeannie lives in Canada, but found it hysterical that I think North/Canada is somehow upstairs. Or in the sky. Or, I don't know - heaven?
[Which now locates South America in our basement according to my gesture.]
Jeannie? You could really help me out here and just move into an upstairs bedroom.
At least my hand motions would make more sense.
But until that happens we now are referring to the upper level as "Canada". It is going to be so much kinder to tell Wallene "Go to Canada" when I need to send her to her room, don'tcha' think? heehee
Have a great one Tadpoles! See you on the flipside.
PS: My husband just called. When I answered the phone he was signing "O Canada"
I am never going to live this down. giggle