Did you know "morning" is an adjective?
As in, “Ohhhh…look how morning it is!” which is exactly what Evan said to Madalyn a few seconds ago while playing with our closet light and pretending it was day and night time.
This was just before they toddled off in a mad frenzy following Papa Bear who was going to put on their Larry Boy movie, or as Madalyn calls it, Goo-GA-boy! We can only figure that she’s combining Larry Boy! and good boy, Evan! But whatever she’s calling it, she sure was enthusiastic, running so fast after her daddy that her torso was rocking as if on a swivel, in broom-like motions swish, swish that kicked her air-pedaling feet out on either side of her, back and forth; a cartoon. Such a tiny bundle to move so fast. Like she’s power-packed, and always with a constant, frizzed-fro trailing straight of the back off her head, parallel to the ground. Can life get any sweeter?
Now that Evan’s given in and eaten his apple (see previous post,) which was followed by a self-gratified smile and sigh, and now that bedtime is 5 minutes away and 24 comes on after that, no it really doesn't get much sweeter. But before I go indulge in it, I feel compelled to share a few more of the negotiator’s tactics that I thought of after my last post:
No, let me cry, I need to cry.
Do you want this, or nothing, mommy?
Don’t argue with me, mommy.
Don’t say “no Evan” to me about this, mommy. I need to do it.
Actual sentences by my actual child.
Okay, okay! So on second thought, it's honestly not that surprising. He is the offspring of the boy who raised his hands above his birthday cake in the preschool years and was about to dive in when his mother stopped him...or more like paused him, before he replied, "I have to," and plunged both hands right into that cake, up to his armpits.
Now, admittedly, this would be much preffered next to the birthday yours truly lifted the cake knife above her head in the throws of drama just before cutting her own rollerskate birthday cake with donuts for wheels, and accidently stabbed poor Laura Hanrahan, the innocent bystander/neighborhood friend just behind her, right between the eyes...yes, drawing blood...of course to hear my mom tell the story you'd think I was the victim, she felt so bad for me feeling bad at my own party. (I mean, who was that Laura Hanrahan girl, anyway, to get in the way of my knife at my party, right, mom?)
And so I think between the two of us, Shaun and me, we had it coming. After all, you know what they say...(and it's not "paybacks are a cinch.")
