I was sipping my second cup of coffee when JJ came running up to me, exclaiming, "Holy moley, Mom! Holy moley!” I wondered, How in the world did she hear that expression? I mean, the kids haven’t watched reruns of the old Batman TV show—not that I know of, anyway.
I peered into her outstretched hand to discover—a roly poly. Aha! A “holy moley.” Sweet JJ, she was so excited that I didn’t have the heart to correct her.
Flash-forward to Mother’s Day. (It’s already 91 degrees outside.) My mom gave JJ a small, round plastic case with teeny-tiny slides inside, called a “Pill Bug Playground”—only she crossed out “pill bug” and wrote “Holy Moley Playground.” JJ gleefully took it into our backyard and soon unearthed two “holy moleys”—ready for their new digs. JJ took them everywhere with her that day—in the car, in the living room, even in her bedroom while she napped, so “Emmy” and “Somersault” could nap with her (totally enclosed in their little plastic case of course—eew!).
It's fun to watch how much JJ delights in her prized “holy moleys.” How precious to realize that somewhere under all her boundless energy and curiosity and excitement and joie de vivre, there is a very tender heart.
Holy moley! It sure does make this mama proud.