Mean mommy

My 3-year-old and 4-year-old daughters were playing quietly. And You know what That means.

So I say: girls. What are you doing?

Both Girls: (quickly) nothing! But can you open this box?

They hand me a big box filled with Hawaiian warrior chess pieces– you know the kind with the chiseled features and the big bodies– which belongs to my 12-year-old son. I hate to see them broken (because they’re very… Artistic) so I tell them.

Me: no.

Both Girls: please?

Me: no.

3-year-old: but Steve (from Blues Clues) says, “you can do anything that you wanna do!”

How on earth do you argue with that?

Fake Pretend

My two youngest were talking this morning and I love listening to them babble and play dollies because they’re always saying, “I love you mama” “oh and I love you too my baby, muah, muah, hugs hmmmm!” Which, to me is a good sign that they feel safe and loved and all that good fuzzy crap.

Anyway. I stood there and took it all in.

3-year-old: Let’s play something!
4-year-old: What do you want to play?
3-year-old: Let’s play Michael Jackson.
4-year-old: Okay. I got an idea.
3-year-old: What?
4-year-old: You be the boy Michael Jackson and I be the girl Michael Jackson.
3-year-old: No, I got an idea. How ’bout we both be the girl Michael Jackson.

I’m laughing at this point and they catch me. “Girl Michael Jackson?” I ask.

“Yeah.” The four year old says. “The one with the long hair and lipstick.”

“Yeah, duh.” The three-year-old says, her words dripping with sass.

So girl Michael Jackson is what they played. I swear, someday I’m going to film their conversations and throw them up on YouTube.

Heehee… ow!


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