Somehow I wrote this, but apparently never got around to posting this from about a year ago... I hope it makes a few of you chuckle...
So, my daughter, Abby shares many of the same idiocries as I do, she is my mini-me. She is the little female versions of me. My son, Evan, on the other hand, is very busy. Busy, of course, being a emphamisim for never being able to stop moving. My wife, to nobody's surprise, was described as busy when she was a child. So, he is my wife's mini-me. Although ironically, it looks like Abby will look like me and have the same build, but will have my wife's height, but Evan will look like my wife and her build, but have my height. He's bound to be ginormous (a word, by the way, I will continue to use despite popular opinion against it). So, I better enjoy being able to roughhouse with him now, because he's going to be way bigger than me in a few years...
So, both kids are friggin hilarious. Evan, who is experimenting heavily with words now, discovered that "Whoa!" is a very descriptive and situationally appropriate word to use in a variety of situations. For example, if he were to lean over in his booster seat at the dinner table and expell a massive amount of flatulence, the use of a very loud "Whoa!" is very situationally appropriate. I am quite pleased with his progress.
Abby, is beginning to attempt to use logic to outwit us. It usually revolves around a flawed reasoning, but she is gaining her Momma's ability to effectively communicate. If that fails, then volume is usually the next step... Today, for instance, Abby was taking her antibiotic for her ear infection that decided to rear it's ugly head earlier this week. She chose to have a chewable tablet, which was great for the first couple of doses. Now it borders on child abuse, if you take her word on it. This morning, after getting her breakfast together, I gave her the pill. She stated she didn't want to take it, she wanted to wait until snack time. I attempted logic with a 5 year old, stating that since she needs to take it three times a day, it would work best in her system if she spaced them out as much as possible. When that didn't work, I attempted to use her inability to read most words larger than four letters and stated that it said on the pill bottle that she needed to take it at breakfast. Her counterpoint was that was that I was a mean Father and that she was going to call the police on me for being mean to her.
I will admit, if my cell phone was on me, and I wasn't worried about clogging the emergency phone lines, I so would have called 911 and let her talk it out with dispatch. I could just see that conversation playing out...
"911, what's your emergency?"
short silence...
"Um, hi, my name is Abby and I have a problem. Um, well, I have a pill, and I don't want to take it, but my Dad says I have to."
another short silence...
"So, your emergency is that you don't want to take your medication?"
"Yeah, it's gross."
(Mental Notes from Dispatcher, "I don't get paid enough for this.")
"If you have a medical condition, then I'm sure you need to take your medication."
"But it's gross and I don't like it."
"Well, if you have a prescription, then you need to take it."
"But I don't want to."
"Well, you need to. Thank you for calling 911."
"But!"
(Dad) "I told you so!"
I considered calling her aunt, who is a firefighter and a EMT, but again, my phone wasn't handy. So, I decided to handle the problem like you would with a cat. Pin her down, shove the pill in and hope for the best, shoving it back in her mouth when appropriate.
What makes me laugh about the whole experience is the simularity between Abby and people who drink bad coffee. Most people who drink bad coffee often exclaim, "My god, this is horrible!" as they take another, then another sip. Abby, however, complained for close to ten minutes how the pill that lingered in her mouth tasted yucky, but absolutely refused to just chew it up and be done with it. Ironically, just like how I had to treat her like a cat for her pill, she immediately started acting like a cat after breakfast, complete with trying to meow and snuggle up to me. Apparently the memory of the yucky pill and my making her take it has been forgotten, until the next dose.
Abby, also comes up with some of the most random things to tell us. Because she is five, and is a girl, naturally she is in love with all things that have to do with princessess. She referrs to herself as Princess Abby, I'm King Daddy, Liv is Queen Mommy, Evan is Prince Evan, and even the dogs are Lords and Ladies. She is obsessed with going to pretend balls and gallas. She'll get dressed up in a hodgepodge of clothing, or simple a blanket and pretend that she is wearing the most beautiful ball gown. Her take aways from going to balls is this, "If you show up early or late to a ball, you are going to get married." If this truly was true, this revelation is either going to see a massive attendance shift from eligible ladies going to balls, either to fashionably late, or precisely on-time. Men, if were aware of this fact, will start avoiding balls with a vengence...
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