In preparation for Bubby's upcoming birthday, which happened this weekend, I was teaching him to give his age when asked. His first response to "How old are you?" was "I'm three," which has been his sister's answer to this question for quite some time.
I corrected him, "I'm two."
"I'm two," he said.
Then, a thoughtful look passed over his face, and he grinned, "I toot!" Obviously, the reaction from this "age" got much more response than the others, so for now, it seems to be the default answer.
******
We've been reading the Beatrix Potter collection lately. I love to read these stories, because they remind me of my childhood. I especially enjoy "The Tale of Samuel Whiskers", partly for its colorful characters, and partly for its relatively macabre plot. The other day, Precious found Bubby eating dried food under the table and thought this a good occasion to use some of her new vocabulary from this story.
"Bubby, you are out of mischief!" she exclaimed at him.
******
This morning, Precious spotted our neighbor walking with his scrub pants on, but no shirt. Usually when we see him like this, she comments, and I ask her to whisper, or be more discreet in some way.
This morning, discretion went something like this: "Daddy, Mr. Mick is naked, but I'm not going to say that."
I corrected him, "I'm two."
"I'm two," he said.
Then, a thoughtful look passed over his face, and he grinned, "I toot!" Obviously, the reaction from this "age" got much more response than the others, so for now, it seems to be the default answer.
******
We've been reading the Beatrix Potter collection lately. I love to read these stories, because they remind me of my childhood. I especially enjoy "The Tale of Samuel Whiskers", partly for its colorful characters, and partly for its relatively macabre plot. The other day, Precious found Bubby eating dried food under the table and thought this a good occasion to use some of her new vocabulary from this story.
"Bubby, you are out of mischief!" she exclaimed at him.
******
This morning, Precious spotted our neighbor walking with his scrub pants on, but no shirt. Usually when we see him like this, she comments, and I ask her to whisper, or be more discreet in some way.
This morning, discretion went something like this: "Daddy, Mr. Mick is naked, but I'm not going to say that."
Comments
Am I missing something here???
I don't get it...
Is this a light form of macabre? Something like Tom and Jerry cartoons are macabre?
(you don't have to publish this comment if you don't want...)
(uhh...of course you don't! It's your blog! Silly me)
I say relatively macabre, meaning it's not something you'd want to talk about at the table, but definitely something that would keep a child thinking for several days. Reading it again brings back many vivid images from my childhood.
Yes, cartoon-macabre!