Last night, we're eating our dinner when the Princess announces that her fork is missing. Having never lost a utensil mid meal that I can recall, I was fascinated. She then found it, in her lap, and announced that she knew what had happened. "The air conditioning blew it off my bowl." My lovely wife and I exchanged a glance, and one of us asked how it did that.
"Hello. It's air."
I have no idea what that means, but I so envy the Princess for her convictions. She says things like that as if it were common sense. These days I feel like I don't really know anything anymore, and here she comes at nearly six, and she has all the answers. I was at least seventeen or eighteen before I knew everything. So precocious, that one.
And it's not just air conditioning either. At one point I started a file of her "Really Good Ideas", as she puts it. It includes such gems as "Never lick the table", "No eating things you can't eat" and "Don't play on the rocks or you will fall down and break your head open". Clearly sage advice on all counts. Oh, and don't ask for details on the table thing. It has to do with where the cat sits, and is not a dinner conversation.
Another area where she seems to excel is figuring out what her little brother wants. This morning the Moose wouldn't eat his Honey Nut Cheerios, which is in and of itself an outrageous statement. It's like someone saying that I wouldn't drink my beer. Preposterous. Anyway, he's fussing and whining, and any attempts to pry the pacifier out of his mouth that I might get a more detailed response led to further fussing. I was clearly getting frustrated when the Princess piped in, "He's just mad because we're not having pancakes". How she came to this conclusion I have no idea, but he stopped fussing long enough to look at me and, muffled by the aforementioned pacifier, say, "Pancakes". And then he started eating. I guess she just hears things differently from me.
To me, everything he says sounds like, "I want mommy to change this diaper".
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