The Dude and Bonita both came down with the flu last night. Meanwhile, I’m immobilized by a back injury sustained by foolishly picking up nine year old Dude to dance with him on Friday night.
So it seems like a good time for some humor. Kids (well, healthy ones, at least) are always ripe with humor.
- Boo (2) and Bear (4) enjoyed several spoonfuls of their favorite treat, Nutella. I took one look at them and said, “Wow, what messy faces!” Boo piped up, “I wan see! I wan see my messy faces!” A trip to the bathroom to look in the mirror was required. For several days after, every time she walked into the bathroom she would pull the stool to the sink to look in the mirror. “I wan see my faces!!”
2. The Dude writes some great thank you letters. Last year, after his first communion, he wrote, “Dear Aunt Marilyn, Thank you for the money. I could really use some.” This year, after his birthday party, he wrote:
Ah, sibling love.
3.) Ray was tucking Bear into bed one night.
Ray: I need a hug.
Bear: I gave one to Mommy.
Ray: But I need a hug.
Bear: I don’t have any hugs.
Ray: But Mommy just gave you a hug.
Bear: I gave it to Mommy.
Ray: I know. I’ll give you a hug and then you’ll have one to give to me.
Ray: OK. Now I need a hug.
Bear: But I don’t have any.
4.) Boo really enjoyed having our priest for dinner for the first time a few months back. For several weeks afterward, when he walked into Mass, she would exclaim, “Faddah! Faddah! HI, FADDAH!” and then await his response. Imagine her disappointment when he managed to successfully ignore her.
5.) Boo’s favorite bedtime book is “Goodnight, Moon.” One evening, she picked up our children’s saints book and started leafing through it. Seeing all the pictures of saints adorned in robes, she assumed they must all be priests. As she flipped each page, she waved and said, “Nigh, nigh, Faddah! Nigh, nigh, Faddah!”
6.) Her favorite perch is the porcelain throne. Whether she really needs to sit there for long or not, she often asks for a book and will hang out for fifteen to twenty minutes. Each time I open the door, I’m greeted with “Pwivacy! Pwivacy, Mommy! I need pwivacy!” Of course, the moment she’s done, she starts screaming as though I’ve been terribly negligent in leaving her in there alone for so long. Mind you, when Mommy would like a little privacy, she will have no part of it. Instead, she offers to get the “twola pala” (her very screwed up version of toilet paper) and enjoys narrating exactly what she thinks is going on.
7.) Last but not least, a word of caution to those limited in crafting ability. Be careful what you make, and how you label it. When the kids were decorating gourdes I thought mine looked like an expectant mother. Without realizing the consequences of such a label, I declared her the Blessed Mother. Now, I feel guilty throwing her away. But let’s face it. This gourde does not do the Blessed Mother justice.