Sunday, September 26, 2010

My Job

I hear mom and dad talk about work and jobs and so I decided to I oughtta get myself a job. I thought about it and came up with some favorite places. So I announced last week at dinner that I now had a job. I was prepared when asked where. "Kroger," I responded. I wasn't prepared though when I got a barrage of questions like: "What to you do?" and "How much do you make?" and "When are you going to bring groceries home?" I didn't know what they were saying but I'm quick on my feet, so I promptly said, "I work with Mandy?" Then more questions about drugs and prescriptions and other mumbo jumbo. It doesn't matter anyway because I quit my job at Kroger. Mandy wasn't there the last two times I went anyway so when we went to Corner Bakery for our Friday breakfast I let it be known that I now worked at Corner Bakery. I didn't get any questions this time, so I guess mom and dad are satisfied with my new job. How could they not be? I just show up on Friday mornings, eat a blueberry muffin and leave. Who wouldn't want a job like that?

It'll be so fun

I like jumping on my dad, especially his stomach. It's gotten even more fun now that Broby is big enough to climb on dad's face while I jump. We are becoming a nice little dynamic duo. Today was a long and full day of activity with church and then a trip to Philadelphia to dedicate Mimi's CPC building. So, Broby was a little tired when we got home and turned in early. Not me. I made enough friends at the dedication. Friends that found me cute enough to fill me up with sugar cookies. So I had to tackle dad by myself. It wasn't as easy without my partner. So I devised a good plan, I just had to convince dad it was a good plan. So in my sweetest voice I said, "Dad, lay down so I can put this towel on your head and jump on you. It'll be so fun! You want to?" He didn't think it would be so fun.

Soooo.....

I very much dislike questions that start with "Why", because usually it's a question like:
"Why did you throw your plate on the floor?"
Or worse, "Why did you sit on your brother's head?"
Or worst of all, "Why did you teetee in your panties?"
Rarely do I get a "Why don't we go get you some ice cream?" or "Why don't we go to Chick-A-Lay?"
So when I hear a question directed at me and it begins with "Why...", I just go ahead and get my response ready. My go-to answers are:
"Soooo, you wanna watch Nemo?"
Or another goodie, "Soooo, you wanna go swing?"
Or my fav, "Soooo, you wanna go to Kroger?"
I think diversion is the best tactic for avoiding the real question. It doesn't always work, but I am always looking for new ways to stay out of trouble, so let me know if you have some other suggestions.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

So Proud

I don't think people, especially adults, hear "I'm so proud of you" enough. I mean, we need to tell people when we are proud of them. People tell me all the time that they are proud of me. If they don't tell me, I ask them. And most of the time the answer is yes - and why wouldn't it be? Too many people are walking around thinking they need to do better, be better, when if they just realized that they were pretty dang good already they would be a whole lot better off. You know, believe in yourself, and let other people know you believe in them, and know they believe in you.
Well like I said, I try to practice this. A lot. Why, just the other night my daddy was putting me to bed and he said, "I love you." I replied, "I'm so proud of you." Trying to get me to repeat after him, he again said, "I love you." Trying to get him to repeat after me, again I said, "I'm so proud of you." He got the hint and said, "I'm so proud of you Landrum." I decided to take it a step further and said, "Momma so proud of you," just in case she hadn't told him lately. He replied, "BroBro is so proud of you." Of course, why wouldn't he be? My last test was to ask, "You so proud of you?" He said he was and I felt like I had accomplished all of my tasks for the day and could rest easy.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Clean Panties

Well I thought I had this potty thing down. But sometimes I just get to playing and I forget that I gotta go. For some reason, over the last few days, I've had an accident or two, or three. This morning I overheard mom and dad talking about how I needed some new panties. Dad asked where all my clean ones were. Mom told him that I peed in them. He must not have heard her because he said, "What?!" He didn't know I was listening but I spoke up and proudly said, "I peed in them!" I don't guess that's something to be too proud of, but I do like answering questions on other people's behalf. It reminds them how smart I am.

Monday, September 6, 2010

Pistol

I've found that the best way to soften the blow of discipline is to say something funny or cute. I still may get a spankin or time-out, but it's not as bad. Sometimes I break into a song, I'm a little teapop, is my current favorite. But my best trick is to just go ahead and own up to it. As soon as I hear my dad raise his voice, I just say, "I'm a pistol!" He agrees, I agree. Hopefully we agree to let the punishment go too.

Found It

Mom and Dad don't like it when I get their toothbrushes out of their drawer and put them in my mouth, but I can't help it. I see it sitting there calling out to me and I have to pick it up. However, the other day I was walking around the house with mom's toothbrush and I laid it down somewhere and forgot. They looked all over the house for it and interrogated me like I'd done it on purpose. We never did find that thing. The next day I saw a new toothbrush in her drawer and it looked a lot like the old one. I wondered if they had seen it yet, so I quickly grabbed it and ran to show them, yelling, "I found it!" I knew they were excited and proud. They love it when I find things.

Hula Poop

I went to a friend's birthday party a while back and they gave us this neat, round thingy that you put on your waist and twirl around. When I got home, I showed my parents my new toy, a "Hula-Poop." Dad felt like that was a more appropriate title that a hula-hoop.

Funny Hair

Even though I'm still little, I'm pretty good with synonyms. Like the first my mom put my hair into a pony tail. It sounded like a made up name so the next time I wanted my hair up I asked her to do me a "horsey hair."
My dad likes to call me a silly goose, so one day when I'd had enough I turned the tables on him and called him a "funny duck." Now we make up all kinds of names with funny and silly attached to them. I like making stuff up.

Puppy Toes

My favorite restaurant, though I've only been one time, is "Puppy Toes". The sign out front says something like Papito's Grill, but I can't read yet and I've asked mom and dad several times what it is. They always say Puppy Toes so that's what I yell every time we drive by.

Let It Go

A few nights ago I was sitting in dad's lap when a good commercial came on. I decided to get up and dance. As I was swinging my arms around I happening to hit my dad directly in the eye. He quickly left the room. When he returned I knew I must have hurt him pretty bad. The next day he went to the doctor, who confirmed that I had in fact hurt him badly. That night, he was still in some pain and he was still a little upset at me. It was just an accident so at the dinner table I told him, "Dad, you gotta let it go, like a balloon." I'm just two-and-a-half, but even I know you can't hold on to things like that. He realized I was right, laughed, forgave me, and we got back to normal.