...her pretend cry was cracking us up--She's been doing it when she doesn't get something she wants and stops as soon as you tell her to stop pretending.
Ah, my little SBFH-lette.
[Miss Smartypants has left the building (i.e., there used to be a photo here).]
Please don't misunderstand. Honestly, I don't encourage whining or crying. It's more that I just can't take it seriously enough to be annoyed by it yet. Look at that face (while you can, you know the shelf-life of pictures around here)! Here's a typical conversation, overheard while brushing our teeth:
Me: How 'bout a kiss, you?
Girl: [See above]
Me: Yuck, no licking! A regular kiss!
G: Mama, shtick ow yo tooooongue!
Me: No!
G: [Pouting] Shtick ow yo tongue!
Me: No.
G: SHTICKOWYOTONGUE!
Me: Uh-uh.
G: [Coy] Shtiiiick ow yoooo tuh-uhnge...
Me: Nope.
G: My no like you, Mama.
Me: Well, I like you.
G: [Brightly] My like you too!
Remember that Seinfeld episode in which Kramer kept trying out the line "These pretzels are making me thirsty!"? It's like that. Little Drama Queen. I don't know where she gets that. What?
The Boy, now, he's excited about the big field trip tomorrow to...the roller rink. I'm having flashbacks of my 6th grade self and Gina G. putting on our sparkly scarves and our lip gloss and skating (or in my case, clopping) around the rink to the melodious strains of the Village People. Dear God, what a wretched preteen was I. The first 8-track I ever owned was Donna Summer's "On the Radio," and I think I spent an entire summer right around that time listening to the sound track to "Grease". (Or maybe that was later. In general, I have an excellent memory--I can remember as far back as 20 months of age--but I have a hard time getting certain timelines right from that period of my life.)
In any case, I think he'll have fun. As we snuggled up in his bed tonight just after lights out, he asked again whether the big day was really tomorrow. "Yes," I whispered, "Just remember what you learned in ice skating class, and don't be afraid of falling down, and you'll have a great time." "Oh," he murmured, "I won't be afraid. But if I'm skating and skating and there are some steps and I'm going so fast and I vroom over them, zoom! then I think that might be a good time to be worried." "Well,yes," I say, "maybe then."
