I have to preface this first one. When I go to work and Froggy wants to come with me, I tell her, "You don't want to come, I'm going to a boring meeting, where we do very boring things, you would be sooooo bored." And when I tell her I'm going to book club, I tell her it's to discuss boring mommy books.
So today, Froggy was on her fake cell phone and this is the conversation I overheard:
Froggy: Oh, hi Beeman (one of her very best friends). It's me Froggy. After preschool we're going to have a meeting and do boring stuff. Uh yeah... Oh, where's that book about restaurants. (perusing my book shelf and pulling out a fat novel), And we're going to read boring books at the meeting too, boring mommy books.
Today, while folding laundry, I turned on the tv to watch an old rerun of "Frasier." This was the conversation that ensued:
Froggy: I don't like this show.
Froggymama: Neither does Daddy.
Froggy: NOBODY likes this show.
(sorry Kelsey Grammer, the toddler has spoken)
Our sink is clogged because Froggy put a wet piece of toilet paper down it. So while brushing our teeth this morning I said:
FM: The sink is clogged.
FM: Because you put that toilet paper wad down it.
Froggy: Oh... (her eyes light up). We HAVE to get a Turbo Snake now!!!
FM: What's a turbo snake?
Froggy: I saw it on TV. It get the clog all the way down the drain. Look mommy, all the way down here. (pointing to where the pipes meet wall). We HAVE to get one!
I have a feeling she put the wad down the sink so I would have to buy a turbo snake. No more commercials for this kid. It's PBS from now on.
The other day, Froggy and I are in the shower:
Froggy: Mommy, why do you have a big butt?
FM: Genetics I guess. Why do you have a small butt?
Froggy: Cause I'm little. I'm going to start a little butt club and all my friends are going to be in it. Beeman, Hummingbird, Bub. We'll be The Little Butts.
And one more that I'm really not proud of:
Most kids go through a haircutting stage. At least once, they try the bangs or a big chunk off the top. It's a forgivable offense. Hair grows back, they're curious, blah blah blah. Well Froggy skipped this phase and decided to go right to the 'cutting other people's hair' phase.
She was alone with this girl for three minutes in her room and I walk in and see an expression on Froggy's face where I know something has gone down, and it's isn't good.
FM: Froggy, what did you do?
FM: I need you to tell the truth now. It's very important to tell the truth. What did you do?
Froggy says nothing.
I change tactics and turn to the good child.
FM: Honey, what did she do?
Good Child: We should tell the truth, right?
Good Child: (turning to Froggy) You tell her...the truth.
FM: Cut what?
Froggy: Cut hair.
FM: Who's hair?
Froggy points to her friend's incredibly long hair that has NEVER been cut. It's past her knees, flowing and she won't even put it in a pony tail, because she loves it's Repunzalesque quality, it's Sampson and Delilah loveliness. If she were a greek goddess, her hair would be a magical entity that launches a thousand ships. And Froggy cut it.
Starting to sweat now, because I couldn't tell where the locks were missing on her head....
FM: Froggy, where's the hair?
Froggy: Under the bed.
FM: You hid her hair under the bed?
I lift up the covers and there they are, three big curly locks mixed with cat hair. I scoop it up and apologize profusely, scolding Froggy and the little girl shuffles out the door with Grandma. I call her mom, email her mom, offer to pay for a haircut. Two days later, we haven't heard back. I guess that lesson is learned. Check that one off the list. And sadly, check another friend off the list too.