Looking back, here are some of the highlights of the week:
N: "I need has to go potty!"
If it weren't so draining to follow her into the bathroom every ten minutes, I would be rejoicing that N. has largely potty trained herself during this long camp out at home due to snow. She is wearing "unnerpants" almost exclusively when we are in the house, and hasn't had an accident in days (except when I forgot to put a diaper on her when I put her down for a nap). We're even trying out Pull-Ups and public bathrooms on our brief forays into the real world. So much easier to get a girl to want to pee on the potty than a boy, so much more logistically difficult to manage it, especially in public. The germs. The touching of all body parts onto them. The poor quality of toilet tissue. The widely varying heights and configuration of seats. With O., it was always just a matter of getting him to stand on my feet -- now I'm living in fear of her falling all the way in.
N to O in the back of the car: "O, that is naughty words."
Apparently, she did not care for the nonsense song he was singing. When he switched to singing numbers instead, she pronounced, "Dere. Dat Better."
O: "Mommy, you know why I love you? Because you take me to places I will love, like the museum, and the zoo, and the inside playground place. And just being by you makes me happy."
See? Agreeable and helpful. Even to my mental health.
N: "Daddy on are-plane? He go to Okey-homa? That funny name."
Yes, and I bet Daddy was finding it really amusing when he finally arrived there four hours late, after multiple snow delays and discovered his luggage had probably never left Cincinnati. He finally received it the next day. But don't worry, Delta gave him a Sky Team t-shirt to wear in the meantime.
O: "Mom, what I want for lunch is some Tigers. Yes, Tigers. You know, those orange things you bought at the store. The ones I always wanted and you finally bought for me. Tigers. Oh, yeah. Cheetos."
Oh. O. If you give me this sort of a laugh in the middle of the day, I'll buy you whatever junk food's name you'd like to mangle.
O: "What's dog varnit?"
This, as he was following me to the kitchen where I was retrieving the carpet cleaner and a rag to take care of a suspicious puddle in the living room, possibly canine puke.
N: "Chicken and fries. Mommy made em for me. Soooo....Beetuz...Soooo. I like em. Yeah. I wear peejamas. Sooo. Beetuz. Tumfy Tozy."
She was telling her daddy about her day on the phone, perfectly mimicking my own conversational tics and pauses.