Friday, March 7th, 2008
A Dinnertime Conversation with Our 3-Year-Old:
Daughter: "I want to be a grown-up."
Mom: "Why? It’s so much better to be a kid."
Daughter: "Grown-ups can do more things."
Mom: "That’s not true. We can’t go to the Bounce-A-Rama by ourselves."
[Bounce-A-Rama is an indoor inflatable play area at our mall. An adult must be accompanied by a child under 12-years-old and cannot partake in the fun without said child.]
Papa: "That’s why we had you. We wanted to be able to go to Bounce-A-Rama."
Daughter: "Noooo, that’s not why. You had me so Papa could play with my toys."
Mama: [stifling laughter] "If that’s true, why are we having another baby?"
Daughter: "Because when I grow up, Papa will play with Little Brother’s toys."
In her mind, she’ll be a grown-up any day now.
[Late addition... My daughter woke up at 12:30 a.m. and yelled out for Papa because she realized her socks were no longer on her feet, and really isn't that what Papa's are for? Dads excel at pitch dark sock fishing.
Anyhow, my wife happened to be snoring in a most conspicuous manner, audible throughout the house. I talked up how comforting it was to hear Mom's snoring because you know she's right there in the next room if there's ever a problem. My daughter's response? "I think it sounds like she's singing."
And now for a limited time, listen to the Thingamababy Lullaby. Limited meaning, until a certain someone gets around to reading the blog.]
Update: Yay! She hit me in the arm and that’s it. She said she has a sense of humor and it’s not like I recorded her farting.
Hmmm. That has to be like a symphony to a 3-year-old.