Ms. A reports that SS is talking more at school. Good, because we could use a rest from our hyper chatterbox. Her language is also clearer, which is for the most a plus. The down side is that now SS's thoughts straight to mouth are understood by others, and that is not such a good thing.
This week I had the pleasure to wake up our beautiful beast for school. SS made it very clear that she was in a foul mood and acted accordingly. First she tried to pull at my heartstrings (luckily I do not have a heart) by saying "Mama, I miss you, not going to school." Oh SS, if you were in the hands of first time parents that line would have earned you a day off. But not only are we pros, we have parented the greatest manipulator this world has generated, your brother. So I proceeded with our morning routine. Not dissuaded by my cold heart SS moved on to a firm approach, she petulantly announced "Mama, I'm not going anywhere." That got an unexpected laugh from me. The cheek of my girl caught me off guard.
On Wednesday we ran some errands and SS kept me on my toes. We were rather busy on our third store of the day when SS noticed a very rotund toddler wobbling between his parents. He was probably half SS's age, same height, and three times her weight. That is when SS's clearer speech was not a good thing. The boy's face was flushed, SS pointed at him and said "That boy has a red face, he looks so silly." UGH, the parents obviously understood and were not amused. As I was uttering something akin to admonishment, SS blew her cheeks with air and announced "And he is SO BIG!" Big coward that I am I hightailed it to another aisle. P, I am with you, I am starting to miss her mute days.
But SS was only warming up at that time. While we are at the supermarket P asked me to pick up wine on the way home. He then changed his mind when I told him that SS was reaching her shopping limit. But a few minutes later SS was happily downing a strawberry banana yogurt drink, so I reconsidered that wine run. Well, it appears that when they go to Trader J0e's P allows SS to use one of their kid shopping carts. I was in a bit of a hurry and unceremoniously dumped SS in a regular shopping cart. SS began to wail at top volume and said "But we need a little cart for Baba's wine. It's how we get Baba's wine. I need to help with Baba's wine." It is almost 5:00 p.m., the place is packed, and my daughter cannot stop screaming about the proper protocol to get Baba's wine. I wanted the store to crumble on me, lots of people were amused; I was not among them.
When we made it to the register the cashier began to chat up a now calm SS. When she asked how she was doing, SS pulled the saddest face ever and said "sad." Nice cashier asked why and that is when SS folded her arms, gave me a death stare and said "We need a little cart to get Baba's wine." That got a lot of laughs, again, none were mine. I just wanted to go home, but nice cashier was having too good a time to let it drop. In mock disgust she turned to me and stated the importance of allowing my child to pick Baba's wine in whatever manner she sees fit. My name is K, and I am the mother of the world's littlest wino.
Move over J*mi Hendr*x, not only does SS play a mean guitar, she makes her own guitar. How did two plain fools win the parenthood lottery twice?