Alice paused a recent conversation on genetics for clarification.
What? You don’t talk to your five year-old child about recessive genes, alleles, and zygotes? Slacker.
“Before, when you were talking about genies,” she began, “I was picturing two genies: a brown one and a hazel one. And the brown genie and the hazel one flew into each other and whichever one hit first won!”
Sigh. I hate for reality to destroy that phenomenal visual image. Alas, I privileged truth over novelty, telling my clever munchkin, “Actually, it is ‘genes.’ But I like genies!”
She graciously allowed, “Well, you can pronounce it ‘genies’ too!”
Thank goodness. Life is a helluva lot more interesting when viewed through the eyes of The Kidling. Facts are suffocating.
* Yeah, so it doesn’t really work. So what?! Accuracy is no fun at all.
Sometimes I wonder just how old The Kidling really is…
As I filled the bathtub before bed tonight, I decided it would be a good night for bubbles. Alice had a fun new bath toy, so I figured we should go all out. Great idea, right?
Alice walked into the bathroom, her face brightening upon spotting the foam-filled tub. Then she stopped abruptly in her tracks:
“Is this a soap my labia will be sensitive to?”
After assuring my child that she could enjoy her bubbles free of irritation, she climbed in and I watched three decades melt away into the water as she reverted back to the five year-old girl I so adore.
Overheard at Home Town water park:
Darling kidling snuggles up to her mama, a (relatively) fit, obsessive pre-dawn runner. In a bikini. Exposed for the whole damn world to see.
Upon climbing onto The Mama’s lap, The Kidling snuggled in, resting her sweet head upon her mother’s abdomen. A smile in her voice, she kindly told The Mama, “you have a squishy tummy pillow.”
The Mama’s reply?
A recent conversation with the director of Alice’s summer program yielded a verbatim recounting of The Kidling’s recent attempt at joke writing:
Alice: Why did the pig fly?
The Mama: I don’t know, why?
Alice: Because it had wings! (giggles)
Fair enough. But then:
Alice: Why did the potato jump over the moon?
The Mama: Why?
Alice: Because it was lonely! (erupts with laughter)
Alice: Why did the chicken cross the road?
The Mama: I don’t know.
Alice: Because it was crossing the road, then it turned its head and saw a ghost and it ran because it was scared!
Hell, if I thought I was just out for a little cross-road stroll and saw a ghost, I’d be pretty scared, too. I’ll go with it. I giggled at all of the jokes (perhaps more than the humor merited) and complimented Alice on her joke-writing. She was proud, if humble, telling me, “They all make sense! (pause) But the potato one doesn’t make sense.”
Sometimes the best ones don’t, munchkin…
“My brain’s kind of quirky right now. I can’t think that well.”
-Alice Munchkin Kidling
July 4, 2013
I FaceTimed with The Kidling for the first time last week.
Is that a verb? To FaceTime? Any predictions on when it will find its way to the Oxford English Dictionary? It took “Google” until June 2006 to become an official verb. Does FaceTime have that kind of staying power? Discuss.
As I was saying… shortly after The Kidling mournfully declared, “I wish I could see you,” during our telephone conversation, I decided it was time to participate in this decade and show my offspring the miracle that is Apple. And it was hilarious. Alice ran all around the house showing me streaking, blurred images of her surroundings. And the dog. Who is nearly as adorable in a tiny box on my phone as she is in person. But I digress.
Now, a few words regarding AdoraDog* (Adorable + Dog. I know what you are thinking: ‘If only I could be as clever as The Mama.’ Sorry, Dear Reader. You are not).
- She is adorable.
- Alice is obsessed with her.
- I am a little obsessed with her.
- She is adorable.
As such, I knew a good conversation starter would be to inquire about The Kidling’s play with AdoraDog. Talking to Alice via telephone is like pulling teeth, so I have to come to the phone prepared. When her update on her day’s activities ended after 15 seconds, I asked Alice, “You didn’t play with AdoraDog, did you?”
“Indeed I did,” she replied with a smile in her voice.
Indeed I hope that living with two adults and no kids won’t get you pummeled on the playground. I think I should add “yep,” “uh huh,” and “yeah” to my vocabulary.
* Not her real name.