Mark’s Remarks | Pitter Patter, Klomp Klomp

Sometimes I sit and listen to the goings on in my house. I was doing just that the other day.

After repairing a wall outlet, I decided to sit there for a while. I was hidden from everyone else, and it felt good to just sit there, my back resting against the wall. A few moments to take a breath or two.

Not that my life is so chaotic that this is needed for mental survival or anything; it was just a nice, momentary respite. Plus, anytime I actually repair something and it works, I feel very relaxed (until something else breaks).

As I sat, I heard the sound of heavy feet bounding up the stairs. They were the sounds of my oldest son. He’s a big boy, still with the build of a football player even though those days are past him. I could surmise, from his bounding and the quick sound of walking once he hit the floor, that he was headed to work. He wasn’t running late, but he likes to be on time.  I’m glad for that.

I started thinking about him as a little boy. He’d be upstairs sleeping, either in the early morning or at nap time. In those days, even though we enjoyed him so much, a few extra moments to sip coffee or get some task finished before he woke up were precious. I remember how it felt when we’d hear the familiar “thump, thump” on the wooden steps. Sometimes, that sound would make us smile with happiness and sometimes exasperation. Sometimes we’d sigh and put something aside to finish later.

It’s funny how you can tell a lot about people in the house by listening to their footsteps. In the morning, if I’m still in bed, I sometimes hear the soft padding footsteps of my youngest daughter scooting across the carpet. She will either crawl up in bed with us or poke one of us, asking for breakfast.

Sometimes, I hear Michelle walking cautiously down the hallway, trying to stay on the right side of the floor that doesn’t squeak as much. I can tell what shoes she has on, and I can tell if she’s headed out for a session of early grocery shopping or maybe a walk with the dog.

All of us seem to have the same cadence when we are upset. The frantic bounding in and furious stomping around means we have already been to the car or van and are coming back in to find keys, a phone, money, sunglasses, something we need.  You can gauge from the sound and shake of the footsteps how urgent it is. A mad klomping and quick trip around the floor is usually followed by a too-hard slamming of the backdoor.  Sheesh.

It’s rather funny to be listening when the back door swings open and you hear a very quick, running walk down the hallway and ending at the bathroom.  Someone in the car waited too long to go to the bathroom and the ride home was longer than they thought. We’ve all been there.

Parents can tell, from the fast or slow pace down the hall, if someone has been up to no good. The baby made a very fast back-and-forth trip across the floor the other day, going to the kitchen and giving us sheepish looks as she passed to and fro. After questioning her as to why she had a wet dishtowel in her hand, she burst into tears and poured out her confession.  She had “accidentally” spilled glue behind her bed.

Even the dog has a distinctive walk. You can tell if someone just pulled in the driveway or if someone who lives here raised the garage door. You can tell if he’s waited long enough to go outside for a break. The little pitter-patter sound sometimes means he just wants to come in and see if he can jump on the bed without getting scolded. It’s a sneaky little walk — even though he’s a pretty good dog.

Bad news or a bad day has a dragging sound. It’s fun to hear sounds of skipping, especially if it’s from someone who doesn’t skip very often. I like hearing the sound of all my kids playing with the dog. All those feet, especially the dog’s, sound alive and happy.

Yes, as I grow older, I can tell a lot just by listening to feet.  Happy and sad footsteps. Determination.

Anger. Ambition. Exhaustion.

I just listen carefully.

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Andrea F.D. Saathoff

Andrea is a graduate of Gibault High School and the University of Missouri School of Journalism, the University of Missouri Harry S Truman School of Public Affairs and Southern Illinois University Edwardsville College of Education. She lives in Columbia with her husband and their twin toddler sons. When she isn't cheering on St. Louis Cardinals baseball or riding the emotional roller coaster of Mizzou Tigers football, she enjoys attending and participating in the many family events the county has to offer. email: andrea@republictimes.net
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