Is It Live, Memorex, Or Chase?

Chase might have all the features of a boy: the muscles, the natural athleticism, the dashing good looks, the plumbing...but the kid can scream like a banshee.

We were in Applebee's, just yesterday, with grandparents, great grandfather, family friends, church friends, and an entire restaurant full of proper, church-going, innocent Belton citizens, simply trying to enjoy a little family time, their oriental salads, cowboy burgers, some quiet conversation, in good faith, and in relative peace. Chase, sitting at the head of our long table, in his high-chair, decided that something had occurred not to his liking, and he let out a shriek so loud that drinking glasses and windows around the dining room shattered, and several ear drums burst instantly. Well...not really...but I was waiting for Ella Fitzgerald to come out of the shadows and say "THAT'S MY BOY!"

When Chase is not pleased about an impending diaper change, he screams. When someone is having 'Happy Birthday' sung to them, and Chase is not feeling festive, or necessarily 'happy,' he screams. When Communion is being served at church, and things are a bit too quiet to suit him, Chase screams. When we are on the airplane, have leveled off, and folks around us are just about to nod off...Chase screams.

Kani tells Chase, "Look around you...none of these nice people want to hear you scream." And in response, Chase screams. At least he's consistent.

When we were pregnant, and I had zilch experience, I would pace around the bedroom self-righteously, and declare to Kani just what our soon-to-be-born perfect child would and would not do. "He will not do this, he will not do that, like OTHER couples' kids do...I will see to it..." But I forgot about the screaming part.