Yesterday, I spent most of the morning and early afternoon sorting through closets and organizing the house. My goal was to accomplish the task before Keven's return next weekend. As I packed away a box of clothes that no longer fit Ilsa, thereby garnering said clothes a place in permanent storage until the arrival of Hypothetical Baby #3, Juliette asked what I was doing. She tried to put on the size six shoes Ilsa wore to Karen's wedding last October (Juliette wears a 10-11).
When she realized that not even Ilsa could wear the things I was packing for storage, she said (QUOTING): "When something drops out of our vaginas, it can wear these." After snorting uncontrollably, I made sure to clarify that she meant my vagina, not hers. She seems at least intellectually attuned to the idea of another potential sibling.
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Our apartment building is a good six feet higher than the one adjoining ours, so the two buildings are connected by a sidewalk that descends to that lower level by a fairly steep grade. The neighborhood kids like to take their toy cars and roll them down the hill, which happens to be outside our living room window (hence: noise). At the top and bottom of the hill are sets of bike racks, but the incline is not totally barricaded. When the girls are riding their new tricycles, I put lawn chairs in front of the drop so that they stay on level ground.
Ilsa however, daredevil, decided to test her hill skills - whether by accident or on purpose I do not know. She barreled down the incline before I could stop her, flipping over at the bottom. Yay! We've had the trikes for eight days and already a vehicle-related accident.
Also, keep in mind (for the purposes of this story) that Ilsa's favorite color is red. Juliette has repeatedly informed her of this supposed fact because Ilsa's birthday cake was Elmo last year, and therefore her favorite color MUST be red. Juliette's favorite, no surprise, is blue because of her Blue's Clues cake. As a matter of sibling individuality, they reiterate their favorite colors constantly and to my great and unending annoyance, particularly when it comes time to receive meals on colored plastic plates. If they receive a color other than their professed favorites, I must silence the reliable protest: "But I LOVE (red or blue) plates."
Anyway, so Ilsa wiped out. I ran to her, picked her up and did a quick triage for injuries. She had a nasty little scrape on her knee, which was bleeding, and another on her shoulder. Cry cry cry. Concerned neighbors. My personal loathing of bikes resurfacing.
Ilsa, however, after the initial spate of crying had concluding, noticed the blood on her knee and said, "But I LOVE red owies."
When she realized that not even Ilsa could wear the things I was packing for storage, she said (QUOTING): "When something drops out of our vaginas, it can wear these." After snorting uncontrollably, I made sure to clarify that she meant my vagina, not hers. She seems at least intellectually attuned to the idea of another potential sibling.
Our apartment building is a good six feet higher than the one adjoining ours, so the two buildings are connected by a sidewalk that descends to that lower level by a fairly steep grade. The neighborhood kids like to take their toy cars and roll them down the hill, which happens to be outside our living room window (hence: noise). At the top and bottom of the hill are sets of bike racks, but the incline is not totally barricaded. When the girls are riding their new tricycles, I put lawn chairs in front of the drop so that they stay on level ground.
Ilsa however, daredevil, decided to test her hill skills - whether by accident or on purpose I do not know. She barreled down the incline before I could stop her, flipping over at the bottom. Yay! We've had the trikes for eight days and already a vehicle-related accident.
Also, keep in mind (for the purposes of this story) that Ilsa's favorite color is red. Juliette has repeatedly informed her of this supposed fact because Ilsa's birthday cake was Elmo last year, and therefore her favorite color MUST be red. Juliette's favorite, no surprise, is blue because of her Blue's Clues cake. As a matter of sibling individuality, they reiterate their favorite colors constantly and to my great and unending annoyance, particularly when it comes time to receive meals on colored plastic plates. If they receive a color other than their professed favorites, I must silence the reliable protest: "But I LOVE (red or blue) plates."
Anyway, so Ilsa wiped out. I ran to her, picked her up and did a quick triage for injuries. She had a nasty little scrape on her knee, which was bleeding, and another on her shoulder. Cry cry cry. Concerned neighbors. My personal loathing of bikes resurfacing.
Ilsa, however, after the initial spate of crying had concluding, noticed the blood on her knee and said, "But I LOVE red owies."
3 comments:
"When something drops out of our vaginas...." That is hilarous! Thanks for the laugh.
Does she call it vagina?!? I use the word potato (or patata)! :o )
Yes, that's what she calls it. I always use the proper terminology so that sex ed will be an easier prospect in the future!
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