Like Father Like Daughter

When I was a kid, I liked to know things.

I liked to know secret things. Anything that felt secretive. Or anything about people being sad. Or anything that people were doing.  Basically anything about anybody my parents were talking about.

I remember asking my parents what they were talking about all the time. And if they didn’t tell me, it was probably one of the most frustrating feelings of my existence. The future therapist in me had a compulsion to know.

And now I have a daughter who is exactly the same way.

It’s uncanny, really.

She’ll listen to our conversations without us realizing, and next thing you know, she’s asking things like “what do mean (says names) have lost their house?” and we’re like “whatever do you mean, sweet girl? You’re not supposed to know that…” and she’s like “I know it. I heard you talking about it. Where will they live now that they’ve lost their house?” and we’re like “We’re not talking about this with you! Nobody’s supposed to know.” and she’s like “when I get home I’m going to tell all my friends that (says names) lost their house…”

We’ve gotta be more careful what we talk about in front of our children.

Anyway, a little while ago, during quiet time (which is basically nap time for kids who are too old for naps), Anna pulled Wife aside and asked if they could have a talk.

Then Anna began an onslaught of questions about Wife’s childhood traumas that would make any adult blush. Wife happened to have a camera nearby so she snagged it and recorded part of the conversation.

Here’s a snippet. (Wife wants me to emphasize that this was completely spontaneous and wasn’t staged.)

Looks like we have another therapist in the family! Or a possible candidate for initiating the next Spanish Inquisition.

I couldn’t be more proud.

(Also, I posted a day late, but that’s because of technical difficulties of uploading a Youtube clip when I really wanted to just be sleeping so I went to bed so I could get up before the sun and go teach seminary without wanting to die. Don’t hate.)

30 Comments

  1. "JUST TELL ME!! We are JUST TALKING!!!" So, so, so hilarious.
    Please tell your probably darling wife to send me Quentin's address. I will gladly go over there and kick him in the shins for her.
    I mean it.
    See, that's why I'm not a therapist. Because a therapist would never resort to revenge.

    1. Exactly. And that's why I'm not personally kicking Quinton in the shins. Because therapists, by law, can't do that. It has nothing to do with my personal wuss factor.

      (Please protect me, Piper.)

  2. Better be careful, Weed, she seems very persuasive. Next thing you know she has your car and a credit card by age 7.

    1. This is probably a really horrible question but… who are you? The initials aren't registering in my brain. (It's my birthday today. I'm allowed to make these kinds of errors and not offend people.)

  3. Oh my grapefruit, I laughed so hard. Wife's awkwardness and obvious desire not to answer the questions and Anna's disregard for her discomfort and desire to plow on obliviously takes me back to therapy with my last psychotherapist.
    Better start saving for college!

    1. Ha, so true! Her total disregard–that's what makes a great therapist. Or news-reporter maybe? Or interrogator. One of those things.

      Oh man, I'm still having trouble paying off my own grad-school. I can't stomach the thought of helping my kids pay for college too!

  4. wow wow wow wow wow… As someone in the social sciences, I can appreciate how crazy that dialogue was. I don't even know where to begin…

  5. wow wow wow wow wow… As someone in the social sciences, I can appreciate how crazy that dialogue was. I don't even know where to begin…

  6. So persuasive! I was totally ready to spill all of my beans. And the best part of the deal would be that she'd probably forget all of my horrible secrets within a few years.

  7. Oh. My. Glory!!! She is so so so super cute!!! My now 9 year old is just like her, and always has to know everything we are talking about. Especially in the car! We finally got a car with a DVD player so we could talk without being overheard, and the clever little girl started wearing the headphones with the volume turned down so she could still hear us, and watch the movie at the same time! Now we have to resort to whispering. Which can be really difficult when you're on the freeway. And the air conditioner is on. And you're trying not to laugh because you know she'll immediately start trying to listen in!!

    But seriously, your daughter is so so super cute!! I just found your blog on facebook (from your epic, and super amazing post about the unicorn club!) and I have been reading it for almost 6 hours straight!! (which is bad because its now 4 am, and I have 4 kids. The youngest two being only 18 months and 8 weeks old! I can't really afford not to sleep at night when they are sleeping!!! But your blog is so so so super addicting! Can't help it!! I must be so super strong! I must stop! I say the word 'so' way too often!

    . . . . maybe just a few more posts . . . .

    (*** I need help. I am weird. Seriously. ***)

  8. When my father was growing up, his parents spoke French when they didn't want him to understanding something. So he took French in school. Then they switched to Spanish. He couldn't keep up.

  9. Oh my goodness….!! She is JUST like my 5 year old!! She pumps me for information and if I don't give it she starts insisting I tell her!!! These 2 girls need to have a party. Or not. Because combined their interrogation power will be too powerful to resist!

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