Skip to main content

Literally

Phoebe, being almost four and apparently convinced that she has the power to bend the world to her will, has taken to speaking to us like this:

Phoebe: Mommy, are you going to clean up the house today?

Me: No, I hadn't planned to --

Phoebe: You ARE going to clean! You ARE!

or

Phoebe: How much longer til we get there, Mommy?

Me: Ten minutes.

Phoebe: No, one minute! I said it's only one minute!

or

Phoebe: Let's go to Applebee's for dinner tonight!

Me: No, everybody else wants pizza.

Phoebe: No! We are going to Applebee's and you know it! How many times do I have to tell you that?

Mallory, on the other hand, is either being totally literal or totally cryptic. First, the cryptic:

Mallory: I saw a friend of mine at the park today.

Me: Really? Who?

Mallory: HOT.

Me: What?

Mallory: Don't you get it? HOT. You know. HOT.

Me: I don't...oh. You mean your friend Summer?

or

Mallory: Can I have dessert?

Me: What would you like?

Mallory: Cold. Smooth. Spoon.

It's like playing a continual game of Celebrity Password, only without the fabulous prizes.

Now the literal:

Mallory: You know the new principal of my school?

Me: Yes.

Mallory: She's a doctor.

Me: Well, she has a doctorate.

Mallory: Yeah, that's good. That means that if I fall and get a scrape on the playground, she can help me.

Me: No, she's not a doctor of medicine. She has a PhD. That's a degree you get if you go to school for a long long time and take a lot of exams and write a very long paper called a dissertation.

Mallory: I'll never do that!

Me: Never say never.

Mallory: Ouch. Pencil. Hand.

Me: What?

Mallory: Sore. Arm. Writing.

Me: What are you trying to tell me?

Mallory: Mom. I'll never do that because I don't want to write a long long paper because it would make my hand hurt. Geez. Don't you understand anything?

Confused. Tired. Children.

Comments

aimee said…
I am impressed that you figured out her friend Summer's name. That would be exhausting! And Phoebe is hilarious. She and a little neighbor girl I know would get along really well. She does that sort of thing too. Or maybe they wouldn't get along--they may be too much alike.
11:35 AM
Anonymous said…
I guess when you are the youngest in the family, you want to feel like you control someone, even if you don't. And Mallory's game would be brain-tiring.

Mom
12:35 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

the closet

Amy has challenged me to list 8 things that are hidden in the back of my closet. I try not to actually look to closely at the back of my closet, so these are my closest guesses: 1. At least three no-longer-needed diaper bags. 2. An outfit that I've been meaning to return to Land's End for at least six months now. 3. One of our wedding pictures, which has a broken frame which I keep meaning to replace. 4. Shoes, shoes, shoes, shoes. 5. Possibly a pair of fuzzy slippers. I miss those fuzzy slippers. Maybe I should brave the mess and go try to find them. 6. Baby blankets. 7. A few small toys that I meant to stick in the girls' Christmas stockings. Maybe next year. 8. And I'm guessing, a bunch of mismatched socks. My closet isn't very interesting, I'm afraid.
1 comment
Read more

The Golf Course

There was a miniature golf course in my grandparent’s house. There were, in fact, lots of cool-if-kitschy things in my grandparents’ house. There were swinging saloon doors between the kitchen and the master suite. There was a toilet seat made of transparent plastic, with ticket stubs from horse races embedded therein. There was a globe wine bar (pictured!). There was a mounted goat head (the goat was named Bucky) on whose antlers my granddad hung his golf caps. There was a stuffed pheasant whose chest feathers were smooth as silk. There was a kitchen bar of green marbled formica and swively kitchen chairs of red pleather. There was an automatic ice dispenser on the refrigerator, which was a rare and awe-inspiring thing in the 1970’s. There was a mirrored tray holding bejeweled perfume bottles with atomizers in the guest bathroom. There were two huge oil paintings – one of my aunt, with beautifully frosted hair, holding a Pug, one of my older sister as a toddler sitting on a John De...
7 comments
Read more

A time to have no time

In the past four weeks, I've been to five Girl Scout events, not including regular troop meetings AND leaders' meetings. When I'm not at a Girl Scout event, I'm preparing for the next one. I'm sending emails to parents, collecting money for field trips, buying craft supplies, and researching service projects. When I'm not dealing with Girl Scouts, I'm dealing with school. I'm at PTO meetings, or organizing teacher's breakfasts, or buying canned goods for the Thanksgiving food drive. Or I'm helping with homework, or signing homework agendas or behavior charts, or sorting through the piles and piles of paper that come home every week. When I'm not dealing with school, I'm taking the kids to the pool, or the park, or trying to arrange playdates or slumber parties. Or I'm making muffins for the week's breakfast, or cookies for the week's desserts, or endlessly washing the little plastic containers I send back and forth each da...
6 comments
Read more