Posted in imagination, Mom, sense of humor, Talking, Three years 4 months, TV/DVD/movie references, Year Four: 2009-2010 on September 9, 2009| Leave a Comment »
My Mr. Potato Head lunchbox is the shape of a TV set. So I put it at the head of my bed.
Mom and I stretch out and look at the lunchbox.
We’re watching a movie, I say.
That’s you, I say. And point to the carrot. And that’s me, I say. And point to the potato.
“Is it a funny movie?” Mom asks.
Yes, I say. We’re goofballs.
Posted in compassion, cooking, imagination, Mom, sense of humor, Talking, Three years three months, Year Four: 2009-2010 on September 5, 2009| Leave a Comment »
I grab a spatula. And my lunch box of body parts—of Mr. Potato Head and his spud buds.
Go lie down, Mom, I say. I’m going to make you lunch in bed.
Mom lies down. I jump in beside her.
We feast on potato, corn and carrots.
Posted in Dad, Getting dressed, Mom, Pictures, sense of humor, Three years three months, Year Four: 2009-2010 on September 4, 2009| Leave a Comment »
Posted in logic, Mom, sense of humor, Talking, Three years three months, Year Four: 2009-2010 on August 27, 2009| Leave a Comment »
Mom talks with her hands.
She’s not talking now. But her hands still fly around.
What are you doing, Mom? I ask.
“I’m thinking in my head,” Mom says.
Silly, Mommy, I say.
Posted in imagination, Mom, Pictures, sense of humor, Three years three months, Year Four: 2009-2010 on August 25, 2009| Leave a Comment »
Mom, I say. You look like a cow.
“I do?” Mom asks.
She is not happy.
Yes, I say. But a pretty cow.
Posted in Mom, sense of humor, sleeping, Talking, Terrible Threes, Three years 2 months, Year Four: 2009-2010 on July 20, 2009| Leave a Comment »
When I am just about to fall asleep, Mom starts to kiss my face.
Because when I am awake, I say, Ewwww. Cooties.
And wipe the kisses off.
Only for boo-boos, I tell her.
But I guess Mom feels she has to sneak more in somehow.
Posted in Dancing/music, Getting dressed, Mom, Pictures, Talking, Three years 2 months, Year Four: 2009-2010 on July 14, 2009| Leave a Comment »
Mom takes me to the concert at the band shell. Dressed like a clown.
“It’s a circus theme tonight,” she says.
But when we get there, I see everything but clowns. I see a baby lobster. A cow girl. A neon crayon.
And then I see a pretty girl. In a princess dress.
I start to cry.
I unzip my clown suit. And start to peel off my costume.
I want to be a princess, too, I wail.
As we drive home that night, I sit in the back seat. Glum.
That was not fun, Mom, I say.
“I will know better next year,” Mom sighs.
Adventures of Audrey 