Saying goodnight to the girls last night, I offered my usual, “Goodnight girls. I love you. I hope you sleep like angels” sort of salutation. Lucy responded with what must have been the fondest thing she could wish for on my behalf: “Good night Mama. I hope it’s your birthday when you wake up tomorrow.”
(Second installment in an apparent series.) “Mama. Girls are prettier than boys. And. Boys are handsomer than pets.” — A little while later… In an attempt to commit this to memory so I could tell you about it tonight, I repeated it to her. “So Zoe. Girls are prettier than boys and boys are handsomer than pets?” “No mama. Girls are prettier than boys. And boys are handsomer than babies. And babies are handsomer than pets.”
“Mama. Girls love fruit and boys love cereal. And. Girls and boys love wood floors.” Illustration from Veer
The Scene: Dinnertime chez UpsideUp Zoe: “Mama? Did you marry Uncle Mike?” Me: “No sweetie. Uncle Mike is my brother.” Lucy: “That’s right. Mama married Papa.” Me: “Right.” Bob: “And she made the right choice.” Me: “Except Uncle Mike has a nicer car than Papa.” Zoe: “Yeah. But Uncle Mike doesn’t look where he’s going.” + + + I hate to tie sandbags to the spontaneity of that exchange, but I feel it important and relevant to disclose that Uncle Mike has not ever been in an accident that he caused. We have no idea what Zoe is talking about….
LUCY: “Mama. You remember that book we read? With the boat?” ME: “The Magic Treehouse book? About the Vikings?” LUCY: “No not the Vikings. The one with the people in the boat. They rowed. In a river. With the man who told them what to do. With the war.” ME: “Ohhhh. Revolutionary War on Wednesday.” LUCY (holding up a nickel): “Yes! Look Mama. This looks like that man. George Washington.”
Lucy: (Carrying bag of Newman’s Ginger-O’s cookies) “Mama. Can you open this for me?” Me: (It’s not even 8 am yet.) “Well, you have to ask Papa. I don’t know how much breakfast you ate.” Lucy: “I aaaaaate… THIRTY POUNDS of breakfast. Can I have one cookie?”
Me: Taking a bite of Zoe’s neck. “Is it alright if I take a bite of your neck?” Zoe: “No. It’s not.” Me: “Why not?” Zoe: “Because then I will not have any head.” Me: “Oh no. That’s no good.” Zoe: “No. It would not be good if I don’t have any mouth or any eyes. So don’t do it.” Me: “Okay.”
Today at Q Shack I overheard three Dukie boys obviously experiencing their first NC bbq: . . . . . . . Boy 1, holding up a hushpuppy: “What are these?” Boy 2, picking up one of his own hushpuppies and examining it closely: “I think it’s potato…” Boy 1 puts down his hushpuppy. Boy 3, handing Boy 1 a bottle of bbq sauce that’s on the table: “Here. I think you’re supposed to eat it with this…”