Out of the mouths of ba… almost-4yo girls
This morning, Audrey balked when I announced what was for breakfast. I must admit, I pretty much ignored her, as she protests anything that isn’t lollipops or smothered in jam. “I don’t want that!” she wailed, “I can’t eat it!”
When I put the plate of skillet-grilled toast, in which I had cut a hole and cooked an egg, in front of her, she looked puzzled. Then, with visible relief and a nervous giggle, she explained, “Oh! I thought it was a real toad!”
Wesley, age 8, sagely told her that “Toad in a Hole” was just a name.
Later, as I was braiding her hair, in order to win her cooperation, I said, “It would really help if you could be as still as a statue.”
Sweetly, she protested, “But, Mom, I can’t, because you’re wobbling my head.”
I burst out laughing. “You’re right. I am wobbling your head.”
“Repeat!” she exclaimed. (Lately, when someone does or says something that she particularly likes, she hollers, “Repeat!” makes a squeaky rewind sound, and tries to immediately re-create the situation. I have tried to explain that it never has quite the same effect, the second time around.) Mimicking herself, “But, Mom, I can’t because you’re wobbling my head.” — pause — “OK, now, Mom, you start laughing again really hard.”
Another gem: “I sure am happy it’s almost my birthday, because on birthdays, I can get everything I ever wanted.” 😕 This, she says to the mother who gave her for Christmas:
- An upcycled doll high chair and crib. I literally got it for FREE from Freecycle, repainted it, washed the crib’s canopy, and sewed new ribbons on it.
- A pair of $25 Skechers (very expensive for us), to which I hot-glue-gunned rhinestones, because I wouldn’t pay the $40 for real Twinkle Toes.
- Nothing else.
I do not know where she has gotten this “everything I ever wanted” idea. When I tried to dissuade her, she protested, “But you’re just joking.” Part of me is delighted in her faith in birthdays and in her parents’ provision, part of me is dreading her potential heartbreak when reality does not match the dream, and part of me balks at her sense of entitlement. I’m not sure which sentiment is winning, at the moment.