"Mommy, what will happen if I
eat all the olives off my pizza?"
My four year-old asks with innocent, trusting, hazel eyes.
"The world will spontaneously
combust."
"What?!"
I derive sick enjoyment from her reaction, and teaching my girls complicated phrases.
I take their education very seriously.
The other day I taught my two-year old, 'delayed gratification'.
"Lay-ed at-tuh-kay-shun," She lisped with her brown-sugar voice. It was adorable. If only teaching the principle were so
easy. Then maybe she wouldn't have
nicknames like, "Girl-Who-Runs-Screaming". Although, now that I think about it, that
might be more attributed to her being excited, rather than angry. Scratch that.
My eyes and mind turn back to Adelei
and her question.
"Or maybe you'll grow a third
eye?" I ask. Adelei grins, and scrunches up her nose. "No!"
She's onto me.
"Maybe your belly button will
turn purple." I give her a sideways glance.
"Naaw!" She's shaking her head emphatically.
"How do you know? You still have olives on your
pizza," I point out.
Adelei quickly plucks off the
remainder and pops them in her mouth. Then she
tests my theory, pulling up her shirt a
few inches to reveal her cute little belly. All the
while, looking at me with a confident expression on her face. My eyes widen. "Your belly's purple!" I yelp. Adelei gasps and her eyes snap down to her
stomach, terrified for a split second that it has changed colors. I laugh
out loud at her genuine shock. Four year-olds are da
bomb.
"Eatyourpizza," I command, voice dead pan. It sounds like I'm channeling Little Caesar. Little Caesar, if he were a mom who was trying to get his super-skinny, purple belly-buttoned kid to eat. Although, if I want help with that, perhaps I'm channeling the wrong Caesar here. Veni vidi vici.
It occurs to me that my mothering skills could use some help. They seem to be setting up camp in the wilderness of my survival skills.
"Eatyourpizza," I command, voice dead pan. It sounds like I'm channeling Little Caesar. Little Caesar, if he were a mom who was trying to get his super-skinny, purple belly-buttoned kid to eat. Although, if I want help with that, perhaps I'm channeling the wrong Caesar here. Veni vidi vici.
It occurs to me that my mothering skills could use some help. They seem to be setting up camp in the wilderness of my survival skills.
Ha! I love this. I am not exactly sure why, and I don't want you to take that as negative. I think It's just because you took a simple scene and made it completely charming. I say that because, although the writing is beautiful, Beautiful is not the right word. It's not a transformation like a drop of dew on a flower petal into a Shakespearean sonnet. There's no embellishment or fluff. It's just a simple scene conveyed through simple, endearing language. I think that's the best I can do to explain why this resonated with me so much without rambling on for far too long.
ReplyDeleteBrown-sugar voice. I love that so much. I think this is a wonderful scene to depict. I feel like it may be a little disjointed at times- I feel like the descriptions, explanations, and dialogue could flow together better and more evenly. But maybe that's ok!
ReplyDelete