Conversations with Bean and Gracie | Marriage Confessions Conversations with Bean and Gracie

“Oh, I’m so nervous!” Gracie squealed.

“Why? What’s wrong, Gracie?” said Bean.

“This is my first Christmas,” Gracie said. “What if we go into the living room and Santa didn’t leave me any presents?”

“Well,” said Bean. “Have you been naughty or nice this year? Santa only leaves presents for nice kids. Is you a nice kid, Gracie?”

“I just don’t know! I mean, I did cry for about four months straight when I was first born.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Bean. “I remember that. You were awful, Gracie! No one slept for weeks! I bet you even kept Santa awake in the North Pole. I bet you get dropped to the Naughty List right away if your crying wakes up Santa Claus.”

“Oh no!!!” cried Gracie. “But later I stopped crying and I started laughing and being cute and all. I think Mom and Dad totally bought it. Plus, now I sleep thirteen hours at night straight! That’s got to get me on some kind of Nice List, right???? RIGHT, BEAN?????”

“I don’t know, Gracie. This doesn’t sound good.”

“Oh no!” she shrieked.

“It’s okay, Gracie. I know what we can do. I can help you.”

“What??? What can I do, Bean??? I’ve got to get on the Nice List!”

“Well, you’re going to have to ask Mom to help you.”

“How can she help me? Isn’t this a Santa thing?”

“Yes, but mom’s have the ability to appeal to Santa on behalf of their kids. So, you’re going to have to ask Mom to call Santa and tell him that you should be on the Nice List this year. It’s your only hope.”

“Okay, yeah! Yes! I can do that! Mom’ll help me! She knows I’m really a good girl!”

“Go ahead and ask her then. I’ll give you some privacy…”

“Okay, thanks,” said Gracie. Then she cleared her throat. “Ahem… Mommy? Do you think that you could, uh, call Santa for me?”

“Call Santa?” I said. “And say what, Gracie?”

“And tell him that I’m a good girl and should be on the Nice List?”

“Hmmm…” I said. “You think you should be on the Nice List, huh?”

“Uhhh…yeah. D-D-Don’t you, Mommy?”

“Welllll….”

“MOM!”

“Okay, fine,” I said. “I’ll call him and tell him what a sweet little Puffalump you are. I’m sure he’ll add you to the Nice List and that you’ll find plenty of gifts under the Christmas tree for you.”

“Whew!” said Gracie. “Thanks, Mom!”

“No problem.”

14 comments | posted in Conversations with Bean and Gracie, The Romper Room | tags: babies, Christmas, toddlers

“Bean!” squealed Gracie. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Oh, yeah? How come?”

“All Mom’s given me is this stupid little lamb to play with, but it just keeps staring at me. I thought maybe you could bring me something more fun to play with…”

“Oh, sure!” said Bean. “Here. You can have my Lightning McQueen car.”

(silence)

“Go ahead,” said Bean. “Take him.”

“Gee, thanks, Buddy,” said Gracie. “But I was hoping you had something a little more…my taste?”

“Umm…” thought Bean, looking around. “Oh, I know! Here. Take this kitchen rag.”

“I can’t believe you’re my brother,” said Gracie, with disgust. “You are so sexist! I don’t want a nasty kitchen rag just cause I’m a GIRL! You think all girls just belong in the kitchen? You think that’s my default because I’m nothing more than a GIRL?!?!”

“Geez…okay, okay,” said Bean. “Settle down! It was just a suggestion.”

“Well, suggest something else,” Gracie growled.

“Well…um…okay…How about Mr. Bear?” Bean hesitated. “I mean, he smells and I dropped him in something sticky this morning, so you probably don’t even want him. Maybe I’ll just hold on to him myself. Wouldn’t want to push him on you or anything…”

“Oh, no! Mr. Bear is a great idea! I love him!” cried Gracie happily.

“You do?” Bean whimpered.

“Oh, yes. Very much. This is perfect, Bean!”

“Well…um…I dunno, Gaycee…” Bean stammered. “Maybe Mr. Bear isn’t the right thing for you to play with. I mean, he’s so used to me and all. Maybe I should just keep him.”

“But if you keep him,” Gracie began to whine, “then what will I play with?”

“Well, how about me?” Bean offered, climbing into Gracie’s chair.

“Really? You’ll sit here and play with me?”

“Of course!” said Bean.

“Oh, that’s great!” squealed Gracie. “Beans are way more fun than bears!”

59 comments | posted in Conversations with Bean and Gracie, The Romper Room | tags: Family, humor, newborns, siblings, toddlers

“Hey, Gracie,” said Chris. “Wanna hear a joke?”

“Okay,” said Gracie.

“Why’d the farmer bury all his money?”

“I don’t know,” said Gracie. “Why?”

“To make his soil richer!”

“Bwahahaha! Good one, dad!” said Gracie. “Do another one!”

“Why do bees have sticky hair?” Chris asked.

“I don’t know. Why?”

“Because they use honeycombs!”

“Hahaha…whooo…haaa…” laughed Gracie.

“Okay, here’s another one,” said Chris. “What do you do if a rhino charges you?”

“What?”

“Give him your credit card!”

“Bwahaha!! Oh man, Dad,” said Gracie. “You’re funny!”

“Okay, one more,” said Chris. “Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Butter.”

“Butter who?”

“Butter wipe your upper lip cause there’s milk on it!”

“Ahahaha!” Gracie laughed.

“No, seriously,” Chris said. “You’ve got milk on your lip.”

“Oh,” said Gracie. “Thanks.”

“You bet.”

16 comments | posted in Conversations with Bean and Gracie, The Romper Room | tags: babies, dads

“Hi there, Gracie Girl!” I said.

“Don’t you ‘Gracie Girl’ me, Mom,” she said. “We are fighting.”

“What?!?!” I screeched. “Why?”

“Because you think I have colic.”

“Now, I said I wasn’t sure. But your doctor and I think you might have a TOUCH of colic.”

“I don’t have colic, Mom,” Gracie insisted.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Because you kind of seem like you might…”

“Now, wait just a minute,” Gracie said. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, you’re crying at certain times of the day…”

“So?”

“…for a couple hours…”

“So?”

“…for two weeks now.”

“I don’t know WHAT you’re talking about,” said Gracie.

“Gracie, colic doesn’t make you a bad baby. It’s just part of who you are right now and it’ll pass soon.”

“Did it ever occur to you, Mom, that I am crying because I have NEEDS? I mean, I’m not a potted plant.”

“Well, of course that occurred to me. But sometimes you cry when your diaper is clean, your tummy is full, you’ve been played with, you’ve taken a nap, and all seems like it should be right in your world. Those times when the crying won’t stop, it just seems like colic might be the answer.”

“You’re forgetting one very important need, MOTHER,” snapped Gracie. “My need for attention.”

“Attention?”

“Yes, attention,” she said. “I have a constant need for attention.”

“Great,” I muttered. “I’ve birthed a middle schooler…”

“I heard that.”

“You know, Gracie,” I said slowly. “Sweet little coos would get you attention, too. It doesn’t have to be screaming for hours.”

“Yeah, but you’d never hear those coos over Bean. That dude is LOUD.”

“HEY!” objected Bean.

“I’m just sayin’,” said Gracie. “I don’t think this is colic. I think you just need to pay more attention to me.”

“Oh, my Itty Bitty,” I said gently. “If I paid any more attention to you, there wouldn’t be time for me to do anything else in my day.”

“I see no problem here?”

“I would love nothing more than to sit and hold you all day long and nibble your ears…”

“Again, not seeing the problem…” she said.

“…but I can’t do that, sweet love. So, we’re going to have to compromise here.”

“And what do you suggest as a compromise?”

“Well, how about I’ll snuggle you really good every day and you stop the crying for no reason?”

“Hmmm…” she thought. “That would certainly free up a lot of time in my evenings…”

“Me, too,” I grumbled.

“I heard that!” she snapped.

“Sorry.”

“Maybe we could work out that compromise,” Gracie said after thinking it over. “But if I cut back on my crying for no reason, you have to stop calling this colic. No baby wants to have that label, Mom. It hurts our image.”

“Deal!” I said.

“Deal!” she said.

“I’m glad we worked through this, Itty Bitty,” I said. “I’d much rather spend that time snuggling than trying to stop the crying.”

“Me, too,” said Gracie thoughtfully. “Though, I’m still going to require you to walk me around the house while you bounce me for about an hour a day. That’s just good, clean fun.”

“Okay,” I sighed. “Fine.”

“Oh, goody! Everybody wins!”