Keeping with the kids theme, rather than busting out a long, disjointed accounting of all the cute/funny/infuriating things about the girls I’ve jotted down in recent weeks, <span style=”text-decoration:line-through;”>I’ll offer up a few at a time</span>.
Today: B. Girls Say The Darndest Things.
(OK, it ended up being semi-long and disjointed anyway.)
When we got home from preschool today, M. refused to tell me what she had done. That’s not unusual; she’s usually tired and a little off when she gets home. But today she had an explanation. “I’m just a little frustrated, dad.” Frustrated? How does a three-year-old know what frustrated means?
C. has a unique method of counting. She can count from 1-3 in Chinese, thanks to Ni Hao Kai-lan, then from 4-6 in Spanish thanks to Dora, and finally 7-11 in English thanks to her home environment I guess. I supposed I need to get her to do 12-20 in Italian now to finish the job.
C.’s response to just about any question is “Ok Daddy.” I ask her if she wants milk, “OK Daddy.” Tell her to stop pulling her sister’s hair, “OK Daddy.” Inform her if she gets out of bed one more time, she’s going in the baby crib, “OK Daddy.” It’s kind of funny, sometimes.
One day M. told me that she had told warned C. not to do something. Then, she said, “I’m the big, brave sister, dad.” I’m not sure what’s brave about telling your sister not to do something.
I’ve promised to share one of their funny conversations for awhile, but first I lost it and now I can’t recreate it totally accurately. But, it went something like this.
C. to M., who is walking down the stairs: “What doing, sisher?”
M: I did a great job on the potty, C.!”
C: “Great job, sisher!”
M: C., you wanna see my boots?”
C: “OOOOOOH! Cute!”
M: “C., you wanna play?”
If you press on C.’s belly button and say “Ding Dong,” she will respond by saying, “Izzybody home?!?!”
M. was taking some medication briefly last week. After fighting it for a couple days (they were eyedrops) we resorted to bribing her to get her to relax and cooperate. Her reward for doing well was getting a treat when she went to the grocery store with me the next day. The treat turned out to be chocolate milk and pumpkin bread at Starbucks, which she calls the Pumpkin Bread Store. While we were enjoying our snack, she said, “I like it when we spend time together and eat pumpkin bread, Dad.” They get you right here sometimes.
C. is right on schedule, learning about the Beatles. The other day the Beatles Music for Kids CD came up in the van, beginning with “All You Need Is Love.” From the middle car seat I heard, “Dad! Wub Wub Wub! It duh bee-duls, dad!”