Froggy likes to help change the bedsheets. She's almost as helpful as our cats, who pounce under and crawl to the edge, inevitably getting stuck like it's the Bermuda Triangle, struggling to find their way out of a bed that never ends. So here's the scene:
Froggymama takes sheets off bed, and hears naughty toddler in other room torturing a sweet Pomeranian with her Barbie brush. FM regrettably says:
FM: Froggy, come help me change the bed.
Froggy: (enthusiastically) Okay MAMA!!!
Every time FM tucks the sheet under the bed, Froggy methodically pulls it out, laughing maniacally.
Froggymama playfully pulls the covers so Froggy falls on the bed. Giggles ensue.
FM: Okay, now smooth out the wrinkles.
Froggy: Smooth, smooth, smoooooooooooooooooooooth!
Froggy very carefully smooths out every wrinkle.
Froggy: There. (pause) Now we can jump on it.
Froggymama walks into the bedroom to find Froggy up on Daddy's dresser with an open bottle of baby lotion. Her fingers are covered and she's smearing the lotion on the wall.
FM: Froggy, stop that!
Froggy: I'm decorating.
Froggy continues to smear lotion on the wall while saying,
Froggy: Hmmm absolutely. Decorating. Absolutely.
While running errands, we pull into the parking lot of our local health foods store.
Froggy: Where are we Mama?
FM: Rainbow Acres.
Froggy: Is there candy and toys?
Froggymama and Froggy are snuggling in bed. Froggy passes gas.
FM: What was that?
Froggy: A toot.
Froggy hops out of bed.
FM: Where are you going stinky buns?
Froggy runs out of the room, closes the door behind her, locking FM in, and giggles.
Froggymama: Who's there?
Froggy: Stinky buns.
Froggy does not splash in the tub, she splooshes. For example, "Don't sploosh me Mama!" or "I got splooshed."
While Froggy and I sang "Old MacDonald" the other day, I thought I'd mix it up a bit. One gets bored singing only about cows and sheep. So when we got to the "And on his farm he had a...." I blurted out "KANGAROOOO!" Froggy turned to me very seriously and said, "Mama, kangaroos don't live on farms." Holding back laughter, I said to my very serious child, "Oh yeah, well where do they live?" The tone of her reply was as if I were the most ridiculous person alive, "In the grass, mama." Like duh.
Froggy sits on the sofa playing with two quarters. Froggymama walks by. Froggy holds up one of the quarters.
Froggy: I choked on that.
I'm trying to teach Froggy to be a good dog owner and that it's important Buddy listen to her on our walks. I don't know why, because the dog only listens to FD, but oh well. So on our walks I tell her to slap her knee and say, "Come Buddy come!" And then theoretically, he is supposed to come. Sometimes he obeys, most of the time, he pees on a bush.
The other day, Froggy wanted me to join her in the living room while I was doing dishes. From the other room I hear her slapping her leg, while saying, "Come Mommy, come." And of course I did.