Wrong Closet

Yesterday was Mister Man's birthday.  He turned 9 on 10/11/12.  It was pretty cool, I thought - and yes, the post next Tuesday will be the recipe for the cherry cake with fudge filling and triple berry frosting I made.  Yum.

As we went through the presents, Mister Man was excited.  He got all sorts of fun things from my parents (and two books on Greek mythology from us that he loved).  My mom is never one to let one child have the spotlight and  the other child remain to the side, so much like we had the "birthday sister" when I was growing up, she made sure to have a present for Little Miss, though at least it wasn't wrapped.

As Mister Man worked his way down the pile (my parents tend to go overboard), her present became visible, and she loves her new Halloween shirt.

Mister Man got to his last box, and he soundly denounced it as "clothes."  He opened it up, and he was right - it was clothing.  He held it up to show us, and my husband and I looked at each other....

Personally, I noticed the hot pink on the inside of the collar and around the "Boo!" first.  My husband noticed the sequins first.  We both noticed that the cut of the shirt is a girl cut.  My mom still didn't understand.  She bought a black shirt.  Why wouldn't it be for boys?

It was only when I asked her if she had moved from the girl department before finding this that it really dawned on her.  Remember the nursery rhyme rewrites?  She's losing it.

And that black shirt?  Well, Little Miss two Halloween shirts now.

Nursery Rhyme Rewrite

On the way to tae kwon do yesterday, Mister Man was reading his Boys Life magazine and telling me the jokes within it.  Some of them I figured out on my own, and some needed a little prompting from Mister Man before I figured out the punchline.

Q: Where does a seashell put his money?
A: In a riverbank (I got that one)

Q: What do you call a giraffe in the middle of the road?
A: A giraffic jam (he had to give me the answer. I  would never in a million years have gotten that one)

Q: What did the fruit tree say to the farmer?
A: Stop picking on me (yeah, he had to give me the answer to that one, too)

Q: Why did Little Miss Muffet push Humpty Dumpty off the wall?
Me: Ummm, I have on idea.
Mister Man:  Because he got in her way.
Me: Ohhhhh that's funny.  I like it.
Mister Man: It's not funny.
Me: Yes, it is.  Why do you say it isn't funny?
Mister Man: Well, who care if he got in her way.  I don't get it.
Me: Because he got. in. her. WHEY.  Way.  Whey.  Get it?
Mister Man: (Puzzled look)
Me: Ok, so you know that Little Miss Muffet is a nursery rhyme, right?
Mister Man: Uh-huh.
Me: Ok, so say it for me.
Mister Man: Little Miss Muffet sat on her tuffet eating some butter and bread.  Along came a spider and sat down ....
Me: WAIT!  What did you just say?
Mister Man: Little Miss Muffet sat on her tuffet eating some butter and bread -
Me: Stop.  Did Grandma teach you this nursery rhyme?
Mister Man: Yes...

Yeah, well, that explains a lot.  He now gets the joke.  And he now knows the right version of the nursery rhyme.  One day I'll get my mom on video singing a song or reciting a poem.  I'm still trying to figure out how she graduated.

She's Got A Lively Imagination

I'm lucky that my parents live very close to us and have a great relationship with the wee ones. They do the vast majority of our babysitting, and when they don't see the wee ones "often enough" in their minds, they beg to come over and hang with them. It isn't all sunshine and roses - we have some boundary issues - but it's a huge relief when I have two children who need to go two different places and only one adult is available. Thus, my mom picks Little Miss up every week at school to take her to gymnastics.

My mom being my mom has a hard time following the rules. She doesn't just go inside the school to the hallway and wait there patiently with the other mothers. Unfortunately, Little Miss's classroom is just around the corner from where the parents wait, and if you peek around the corner, you can see into her classroom - and watch them pack up their backpacks from their lockers in the hallway at the end of the day. Needless to say, this is frowned upon, as it's distracting to the students. My mom doesn't care; she just wants to see her granddaughter, regardless of the rules.

I discovered how much an issue this was when my mom accused me one day of planting stories with Little Miss. I looked at her blankly, truly having no idea what she was talking about, but she didn't believes me and insisted that I must have told Little Miss what to say. I hadn't. My dear child simply has an interesting and vivid imagination.

Little Miss told my mom that she had to stop peeking around the corner at her. Why? Because it isn't allowed. And not only that, but the school has cameras to watch for people doing this, and if you get caught, the police will come to take you to jail. Little Miss didn't want her grandma to go to jail. And no, I have never once used the threat of police or jail or anything like that to scare her into behaving. I have absolutely no idea where she came up with the story, but she knows now that Grandma doesn't believe her and figured out that it was a made up story.

Little Miss still had a solution, however.

I know you miss me at school. I miss you, too. Here is a picture of me so that you can keep me close to you. I love you, too!

(Forgive her spelling, as she's in first grade and being taught only in Spanish, so her English spelling isn't where we would expect it otherwise.)

Seriously? How precious is that. Hilarious. Highly entertaining. Gonna give me grey hair as she moves into the preteen and teen years, but precious nonetheless.

It S'Not A Problem

Little Miss has been picking her nose a lot lately. I'm guessing the continual change in seasons in Chicago from winter to summer to winter to summer and back again is wreaking a little havoc on her poor sinuses, along with ninety-nine percent of the population around here.

Nonetheless, while I can ignore it to some degree (thankfully, she isn't a booger eater) or remind her gently when I see her, my mom is repulsed by it and is willing to try any tactic she can to get Little Miss to stop.

Yesterday's attempt:

Little Miss, my mother wheedled in a charming voice. How will you ever get a boyfriend if you pick your nose like that?

(Aside: because a five year old needs to worry about getting a boyfriend? But that's another topic to discuss with my mother later. Let's not pressure her about her worth as a person as measured by her relationship status, please.)

But, Grandma, she looked up at my mom oh-so-matter-of-factly, it's ok. Paul (not his real name) picks his nose, too!

Foiled again.

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Wordless Wednesday - Mostly

When Little Miss's bus pulled up today, she was not thrilled that I was there to greet her. She was hoping for Grandma and let me know her thoughts on the matter.

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