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Callie Feyen

Choose Your Words

in Uncategorized on 20/01/15

When Hadley wants to add a dash of funny into an anecdote, or say, a weeknight dinner she finds dull, her go to tactic is to use the word, “fart.” The word works in almost any situation that (she thinks) needs livening up.

For example, do you have extra shredded cheese on your dinner plate? Then do this:

IMG_0449

You will be sure to create a ruckus.

The thing is, I get bored with this word. I’m all for a good body humor joke but this word is so easy to insert that after a while I find it monotonous.

“That’s lazy story telling, Hadley,” I say on my literary high horse.

“Only use that word every third day because it loses its humor,” I suggest.

“Not to me,” Hadley mumbles.

Harper agrees. “Mommy, ‘fart’ is always funny.”

But one afternoon, after what I believe was the 5,000 time of hearing this word, I decided to give Hadley the equivalent of a Coach Taylor talk.

“Hadley,” I say, pacing around the living room while she sat on the couch, moving her head out of my way so she could see Minecraft on the TV.

“Hadley,” I say again, shutting off the video game. “No more using fart.”

I sat down on the coffee table, my knees touching hers. “You’re a better kid than that. You’re so smart. So creative. You can do better than this word.”

I sounded like I was reading a script from an ABC After-School Special except instead of saying, “Don’t do drugs,” I was saying, “Hadley don’t use the word fart.”

“OK, Mama,” Hadley says.

I ruffle her hair and walk away.

Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose y’all. My job here is done.

At dinner that night, Hadley made this:

IMG_0704

She was so proud of herself, and laughing so hard she could barely breathe.

“This is great, Hadley!” I say. “Is this somebody on a skateboard?”

“Hahahaha! NO!” Hadley’s standing next to me laughing so hard she bends over and holds onto her knees.

“What is it?”

She looks me in the eyes, and hers are glistening from the giggles, and I cannot wait to get in on my blue eyed beauty’s joke.

“It’s a guy who’s give off his digestive gases,” Hadley says then collapses on the floor in a heap of laughter.

Hadley – 2, 461 Mama – 0

Full hearts, indeed.

6 Comments

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Comments

  1. Abbigail Kriebs says

    January 20, 2015 at 11:20 am

    Oh, wow! You’ve got one smart girl on your hands. I’d love to see a new Dead Poets Society meme running around with “digestive gases” as the upgrade to “fart”: https://40.media.tumblr.com/1643b221e0a4c459f836aa5daeccc459/tumblr_n2q67rQ7sw1qcl64fo1_500.jpg

    Reply
    • calliefeyen says

      January 22, 2015 at 8:24 am

      Haha! I used this with my 8th graders! Thanks, Abby!

      Reply
  2. alison says

    January 21, 2015 at 10:50 pm

    you were just asking for that one. šŸ™‚ somewhat relatedly, i’m pretty sure annika taught herself today how to swallow air to make herself burp. because that will never get old.

    Reply
    • calliefeyen says

      January 22, 2015 at 8:24 am

      Hadley says, “Can Annika teach me that?”

      Do we request that they are suite mates at Calvin now or later?

      Reply
      • alison says

        January 22, 2015 at 11:14 am

        we should probably just put in for it now. i’ll have annika start working on her fart jokes.

        Reply
        • calliefeyen says

          January 27, 2015 at 10:47 am

          Excellent. NVW will be luck to have them.

          Reply

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Hi! I’m Callie. I’m a writer and teacher living in Ann Arbor, Michigan. I write Creative Nonfiction, and in my oldest daughter Hadley’s words, I ā€œuse my imagination to add a bit of sparkle to the story.ā€ I’m a contributor for Coffee+Crumbs, Off the Page, Makes You Mom, and Relief Journal. My writing has also been featured on Art House America, Tweetspeak Poetry, Good Letters, and Altarwork, and in 2014 I was one of the cast members of the Listen To Your Mother DC show.

I hold an MFA in Creative Writing from Seattle Pacific University, and I am working on my first book that will be published through TS Poetry Press.

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When I was in fourth grade, I got my front tooth k When I was in fourth grade, I got my front tooth knock out during a baseball game. I was in the dugout, trying to make a butterfly in the dirt with my shoe. The batter, who’d hit not just a home run, but a grand slam, came running in and everyone cheered and so did I because I’d gotten really good at reading cues for when a good thing happens in sports. I even attempted a high five, and somehow I knocked my face into her batting helmet, thus spending the good part of that weekend summer day in the dentist’s office getting a root canal.

No teeth were lost in this latest incident, but I was lost in a bit of imagining on Sunday when I tripped and fell on Packard while running. I look like I’ve been in a bar fight and my shoulder looks similar to how Wesley’s looked after being attacked by an ROUS. 

But I’m going into work today, and when I told my boss I’m nervous about how I look she said, ā€œIt’s OK because you have a story,ā€ and if that isn’t the best thing you could ever say to me, I’m not sure what is. 

So, here I am with a story. Thanks to all my friends and family who’ve been so kind and keeping me laughing.
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