Now that Henry is talking all the time, we've entered the realm of the unfiltered comments. You know, the ones where your face turns red and your neck hot as your toddler tells everyone on the street that "Mommy shower nakey!" or runs around the backyard while you are cleaning up doggie do-dos yelling "Mommy clean up poops! Yay!"--both true stories. Of course they're more funny than embarrassing, more adorable than shameful, and definitely more hilarious than aggravating. But I think more than the embarrassing moment, more than the funny words, is the realization of just how much Henry is taking in, observing, and remembering.
This Sunday, we had a semi-awkward but mostly wonderful unfiltered comment from Henry in the middle of Sacrament Meeting. Henry loves to watch the young men pass the sacrament. He's particularly interested in the deacons, it seems, and follows them with his eyes as he stands on the pew, leaning against his Daddy. This week, one of our newest deacons was standing in the very front of the chapel, hefting two trays of tiny cups of water, watching as the Bishop partook of the sacrament. Poor boy tipped one of the trays, and spilled just a tiny bit from one or two of the cups; I'm not sure he even noticed he did it. But Henry did.
In full voice, Henry pointed at him and said "That boy spill! That boy spill!" Of course Derek and I shushed him, asked him to whisper and said, "yeah, he spilled, but that's ok." "That boy spill!" Henry announced again, turning as the offending deacon walked down the aisle and pointing at him again. For the rest of the meeting, Henry kept reminding us that "that boy" (who also happened to sit directly in front of us) had spilled a little bit.
Of course I was embarrassed, not only because Henry was talking loudly during the sacrament, but because that poor deacon had done nothing wrong and might have been a little embarrassed by a two-year-old announcing his blunder in front of the whole ward (though really, it was probably only a couple people that heard Henry).
His observation kept coming back to me (whether I wanted it to or not) throughout the meeting, and I couldn't help but think about how Henry is watching and listening to all that goes on around him. From the names of flowers, to the kind of lotion I rub on my legs, to the boys that pass the sacrament each Sunday. I wonder if those deacons and teachers know that he watches them every week, his eyes scanning the room, pointing at their ties and white shirts. I wonder if they know that he whispers "yeah" when Derek asks him if he's going to pass the sacrament one day, then says "watch boys, one day."
Henry picks up on so much and I love watching him learn. And I do love the subsequent announcements of what he has learned, too. He is so clever and quick--sometimes frighteningly so. As he learns, I find myself watching what I say, what I do, and how I react to difficult situations. I want him to learn only the best of habits and become the best he can be. Hopefully, he can learn to whisper at church, too.
