Sunday, June 21, 2015

A knowing smile with a simple nod is sufficient.

Just a little FYI to anyone who might find themselves in this position -

Do not try to engage a mother with a crying, thrashing, kicking, screaming child. Don't say some pointless, mindless drivel such as "looks like someone's having a rough day!" Because you know what? She won't be able to hear you anyway, due to the aforementioned screaming child, but she'll probably still feel obligated to stop and say "What?" because you're still looking at her.

And it also doesn't help to say "Yeah, most little ones don't like (insert whatever activity it is that you're doing) very much..." and trail off with a look that makes me think you think I'm crazy for attempting said activity.

So here's what I wanted to say:

"Know what, dude?
You're here with two dogs.
I'm here with two kids.
Who do YOU think knows my kids better? You think it's you, with your two huge dogs and your permafrown? Or you think it's me, the one who stopped to talk with your unpleasant ass while I've got an obviously unhappy little one?

"Furthermore, my children do usually enjoy themselves here. Turns out, this one here (motions to Glamour) is flexing her two-year-old feelings. She doesn't show them often but when she does, they are FIERCE. That one (points to Glitz) is being surprisingly well behaved today, probably on account of the fact that her sister is being a hellacious monster and you're a potential tricky person with two huge scary dogs.

"Now can I continue on my way down the path here? I can see that my screaming child is annoying you, and I'm so very sorry that I stopped you and inconvenienced you with my stories about my kids.
Oh wait. That's right.

But since I really had no intention of actually stopping and making small talk, what I really said was:
"yeah, she always screams like this when I take her out of her cage."

The looks on their faces was priceless.

And here's a pic from last time, when Glamour didn't scream the whole time.

Friday, January 9, 2015

Droppin' bombs

I was brushing my teeth the first time I thought I heard Glitz say it. She was directing it to Glamour. I was in shock at what I thought I heard. My child doesn't say that. Did I hear her right? Did she really just say that?

I put down my toothbrush, wiped the foam from my mouth, and ran out to the living room, although I'm not sure what I expected to see. They were both just sitting in their beanbag chairs, watching Wallykazam.
They have every episode memorized. They're like little Wally super fans.

I gave both of them my usual "I'm on to you" look and went back to my Sonicare and my quest for proper oral hygiene.

The second time she said it, I was more sure of it. We were in the car on our way home from pre-k, and I heard it.
I knew I heard it.

"Did she really say that?" I pondered to myself as I simultaneously turned down the music and turned to look at her with a "did you really say that?" look on my face.

Her face held no proof that she had really said it.
She just smiled sweetly at me with such an air of innocence, as if she could do no wrong.

At dinner tonight, I heard her say it again, only this time was loud and clear. There was no mistaking it. I witnessed the whole thing as if it was in slow motion.
Glamour was standing beside her chair taking a drink from her water. Glitz walked over to her and bent down to look her square in the face . . .

"Glamour, I love you." 

I froze. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I couldn't even grab my phone to catch the hug that spontaneously occurred after she dropped that bomb.

She said she loved her!
She loves her!
She finally finally loves her!

That made my heart so happy, to hear her say it so openly and honestly and, most importantly, without being prompted.

Love that little stinker.