"Oh, that's okay," she said restfully, after a moment's thought. "I left my dolly at the table."
In Which We Attempt to be Amusing
Friday, September 10, 2010
On Meaning, Ranges of:
Since the quesadillas were on their way, I thought it might be an auspicious time to try to fight city hall. From nine years plus of experience I know something about little girls: the second the food hits the table is when they need to visit the Little Senoritas' room. I deposited Tinkerbell in one stall and Buttercup in the next. Tink is a new reader, and so she quite naturally gave some attention to the sign posted over the toilet: "Please," she read aloud, "do not dispose of feminine items in the toilet."
And Beauty Vain
(Flashing back, 2008)
A conversation with Tinkerbell, just before dinner.
Tink: When we go to heaven, and see God, I can see what's in my body.
Me: See what's in your body?
Tink: Mmm-hmmm.
Me, charmed with this quaint, though oddly phrased, fancy, and imagining (erringly, as it later appeared) that Tinkerbell was contemplating the nature of our resurrection bodies): Well...do you think you'll be able to fly?
Tink: No.
Me: Well, why do you want to see what's in your body?
Tink, searching for words: Oh...I breathe...and swallow...
I, like stout Cortez's men, was at this point suddenly struck with a wild surmise.
"Tinkerbell, what did you breathe and swallow?"
Tink, shrugging modestly: Oh... A bead.
A conversation with Tinkerbell, just before dinner.
Tink: When we go to heaven, and see God, I can see what's in my body.
Me: See what's in your body?
Tink: Mmm-hmmm.
Me, charmed with this quaint, though oddly phrased, fancy, and imagining (erringly, as it later appeared) that Tinkerbell was contemplating the nature of our resurrection bodies): Well...do you think you'll be able to fly?
Tink: No.
Me: Well, why do you want to see what's in your body?
Tink, searching for words: Oh...I breathe...and swallow...
I, like stout Cortez's men, was at this point suddenly struck with a wild surmise.
"Tinkerbell, what did you breathe and swallow?"
Tink, shrugging modestly: Oh... A bead.
Buttercup Asks for a Cherry
Flashing back, 2008
Pointing, jumping, and with rising panic as her one-year-old wish goes unfulfilled:
Chubby?
Bees? Pees?
Shar-pee!
Sho-bu?
Bees?!
Shubby!
BEES?
Uh-huh-uh-huh...BEES?
Cherbee?
It must be hard, not knowing how to talk.
Pointing, jumping, and with rising panic as her one-year-old wish goes unfulfilled:
Chubby?
Bees? Pees?
Shar-pee!
Sho-bu?
Bees?!
Shubby!
BEES?
Uh-huh-uh-huh...BEES?
Cherbee?
It must be hard, not knowing how to talk.
On the Early Development of Self-assurance
Flashing back, 2008
The other night Tinkerbell excused herself from dinner to go to the bathroom. This in itself was nothing remarkable--the interim restroom trip is either Tink's ritual break from having to eat, or her game plan for final escape, or both, depending on the meal. But she was gone for a long time, and when she came back there was an extra spring in her step.
The other night Tinkerbell excused herself from dinner to go to the bathroom. This in itself was nothing remarkable--the interim restroom trip is either Tink's ritual break from having to eat, or her game plan for final escape, or both, depending on the meal. But she was gone for a long time, and when she came back there was an extra spring in her step.
"The new toilet paper roll fell in the toilet," she began, but then noticing my stricken face she broke off and added reassuringly, "but I pulled it out again and set it on top." Which was indeed what I found when I went to look: one super-absorbent roll drooping wetly on top of its holder.
~
Buttercup likes to climb the stairs. She likes to go see Daddy in his office; she presumably likes risking life and limb to do so; and she likes getting away from Mommy. The sense of imminent pursuit adds a dimension of thrill to an already exciting-enough adventure. Our stair has that convenient sort of door that may be locked and then pulled shut on purpose, and sometimes (less conveniently) is locked and pulled shut by mistake. Tonight from within the dark and locked stairwell I heard a small muffled voice. "Mommy? Moooommy?" I was about to unlock the door and let her out when it dawned on me that this was in fact the perfect opportunity to instill just a little distaste for stair-climbing into Buttercup. So I stood there and waited. "Mommy?" the voice inquired once more, and then relapsed into silence. The silence continued so long that I got impatient and opened the door. She sauntered out, perfectly calm, with a little nod in my direction. "Thank you much, Mommy," she said.
The Life and Times of Kelsey
Flashing back, 2008
This morning as we rolled out of bed, Petunia presented us with her new pet: Kelsey the Stinkbug. Kelsey had been allotted a portion in the bottom of a blue plastic bucket, and was happily trying to climb out. Unfortunately for Kelsey, she did escape, and in the process of being restored to her domain, lost two of her legs. I came upon Petunia observing her plight with a look of slight concern on her face, obviously trying to calculate whether the lost limbs were of the essence. As I removed Kelsey to the cold comforts of the bathroom I could hear Petunia in the distance, hotly pursuing, and shouting, "Wait! Wait! Flush her legs down with her!!"
To get us rolling
For a little while, just to get us rolling, I'll be posting flashback posts from an old, old blog. Stay tuned.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
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