This morning, Angel went to use the bathroom, but her uncle Clint was in there. She waited for him to come out, and when he did, he had no shirt on. She looked at him, surprised and said, “You’re hairy!” He just smiled, nodded and replied, “Yep, that’s just me.”
She smiled back & said, “AWESOME!”
I lost count of how many times Angel said to me today, “Mommy… I love you.” At one point, after she said it like 10 times in 10 minutes, I’m embarrassed to admit that it kinda got old. Then I felt guilty for getting annoyed. So I say to her gently, “I love you too, Angel, but can you say that differently? Say something else?” And she smiles & a few minutes later says,
“You’re the best. The best girl ever“.
That was awesome.
Then came the, I love you “more-than”s. My favorites were “monkeys bars” and “turd buckets”. I was just tickled to hear a new phrase – but to hear you’re loved more than a turd bucket – well, there are just no words.
The other night the kids were at the table finishing their dinner and Angel says, “Mommy, I want some ice cream!” but she says “ice” with her lil Texan accent, which makes it sound like, well…
Braylon goes, “Mom? Angel just said a cuss word.” We’ve known for months that when she says ice cream, it sounded more like “ass cream”, but it was just too funny to correct.
We simply smiled at Braylon and said, “I know. She doesn’t mean to, buddy.” We’ll train her to say “ice” the right way, in time (before she’s made fun of)…but I like the lil Texan in her voice & want to hear it as long as I can! Unlike Braylon, she is a Texan, after all.
I’m listening to my girl in the bathroom & this is what I just heard:
“wait a sunket! what… in..the…weird?”
it’s gone come out.
one come out…
one come out…
one come out…
(pause) whatcha doin’ mommy? workin’ on yer pooter?
(pause) ok, i’m done.”
At McDonald’s Play Land, I sat from afar & watched this scene ~ a little girl in a purple dress approached Angel & this was the conversation:
Hi! I’m Sarah! What’s your name?
Hi! I’m five.
– I’m free. I have gum when I’m five.
You’re three? I was three when I was a little girl. (pause)… You wanna be friends?
…and off the two of them went, hand in hand, into the play structure. I thought about how complicated it can be for grown-ups to gain a friend, & then laughed to myself as pictured that exact scene between two grown men.
“My tummy says, ‘I’m Humgry!’ I like angel-cerral.'” (Cupcake Pebbles. “Pebbles” from the Flintstones, she says looks like her friend, Dru, and she says she looks like Bam-Bam, on the cereal box).
She’s currently scream-singing in the kitchen as she sees a mess on the floor that needs attention,
“CLEAN UP, CLEAN UP! EH-BUDDY, DO MY SHARE!”
Apple doesn’t fall far.
One of our favorites:
It’s short but sweet, and inevitable whenever we play a rousing game of hide-n-seek:
“…Where ARE Rooo?”
And here’s another she said last night. I was kneeling by her bed asking her if she wants to pray for her friends & she said, yes. So we were naming her friends and I suggested her teacher @ Parents Day Out, “Ms. Shelly”, to which she responded,
“No, Ms. Shelly not my friend. Ms. Shelly too tall.”
“Ms. Shelly hairs is cray-see. Her hairs is … circles.”
I thought that was pretty cute and intelligent. It made me smile, like so many things that come out of that lil mouth of hers.