Don't ask, don't tell

A transformer in our neighborhood blew this morning. The noise of it drew us all outside to see what we could see. Dan said he'd seen a puff of smoke, I grimaced and said "Yikes. Must have been a squirrel." My niece Lily (Luke and Melissa's oldest) thought for a second, then looked up at me and said, "Do squirrels do that?"

It's got Mary-Beth all over it

I found this little poem while out on the interwebz searching for copywork quotes for Jonah. Who does this bring to mind?

Singing Time
by Rose Fyleman

I wake in the morning early
And always, the very first thing
I poke out my head and I sit up in bed
And I sing and I sing and I sing.

Your honesty is refreshing

Mary-Beth came to me this morning wearing her most innocent look. You know the one: the chin is pressed to the chest, the eyes are looking up at you over the glasses, the bottom lip is sticking out. That look. Knowing her as I do, and having seen that look before, naturally I smelled a rat.

Her: Mommy? Jonah almost throwed that car at me.

Me: Really? He almost threw that car at you?

Her: Yes, he did. He almost throwed that car at me and it keeps making me mad every day.

Me: Hmmm. Did he throw the car at you, or did he almost throw the car at you?

Her: He almost throwed it.

Me: Ah. Well, why would he throw a car at you? Did you throw a car at him?

Her: Yes, but I keeped missing him.

Now we're getting to it.

Who asked you?

Mary-Beth: Mommy? When I'm 7 years old, will my feet touch the floor when I'm on the toileeyet (toilet)?

Me: Yes, I'm almost sure of it.

Mary-Beth (after a pause): Mommy? How old are you?

Me: Thirty-eight.

Mary-Beth: Wow! That's a loooooong time ago!

At least she knows the right answer

Me: Mary-Beth, are we supposed to put the whammy bar up our nose?
Her: Nnnnnnnegative.

That takes care of that

Mary-Beth (in a voice so low it's almost a whisper): Mommy? There was a ear twig crawling by my toes on the ground over outside by the garden.

Me: Oh, you know that ear wigs can't hurt you, right? Did you walk away from him?

Mary-Beth (same low whispery voice): No. I killed him with a shubble.

That'll work.

That might be a problem.

(Jonah, calling from his room to Mary-Beth's room.)
Mary-Beth!..... Will you come help me organize?

(Mary-Beth, calling back in a sing-song'y voice.)
Nooooooo.

(Long pause, then Jonah again.)
Mommy? Will you come help me organize? Because I don't know what "organize" means.

"Mommy? Swinging high on the swings is a weally. impoh-tant. job."

For the record, she should get paid for it. She's weally. weally. good at it.

And the wisdom to know the difference

Mary-Beth has become something of an informer in recent months. Don't tell her any secrets, and don't do something tattle-worthy in her presence.

On Easter she tattled on her cousin Roman. I reminded her that it's not alright to tattle unless someone is getting into something dangerous. Y'know, someone's left the yard, fell off the swings, licking the barbecue, all that normal stuff kids do. What? Your kids don't lick the barbecue? Hm. Maybe mine tastes better. Anyway...

She came back about 20 minutes later and tattled on Roman again. I asked, "Mary-Beth, are you tattling?" She giggled and replied, "Nooooooooo. I'm not tattling. *gigglegiggle* I'm tell-ling."

Pardon me. My mistake. Carry on. ;)

Are those cobwebs?

Jonah flopped on the couch after lunch today. I asked him if he was sleepy, trying to stifle the joy from my voice at the prospect of naps. "No, my tummy just hurts a little bit." I remarked that his tummy has been hurting after every meal lately. He replied with a sigh, "Probably it's because I'm almost 6 and I'm almost an old guy."

I wondered about those wrinkles.

Thanks for clearing that up.

Mary-Beth: "Mommy? I like bananas."

Me: "You do?"

Mary-Beth: "Yeah, but I'm not a monkey."