Dooce has this cute thing she calls “How to Charm Me.” I often think of things that the kids and husband do that are just downright charming and then I forget to share them. Not today!
How Rollie charmed Annie today:
Three year olds talk a lot. I mean a LOT. They pretty much wake up, walk out of their room, come in your room, tell you to wake up, and then bombard you with constant questions for the next, oh, thirteen hours or so. Non-stop. You don’t have children and you think I am exaggerating; I am not. It is the Spanish fucking inquisition over here.
Before I have coffee, I just nod and say uh-huh, even when Rollie says,
“Mama, mama, mama, mama. I asked you a question. Mama, I asked you a question. Mama!! I asked you a question.”
The question is usually,
“Mama, why do cars just bump?”
Translation: Why do cars bump into each other in races and get into wrecks? Sometimes, it is
“Mama, why do you like coffee?”
I want to tell him the truth, which is that I am addicted to coffee and I can’t handle his fucking questions all day without drinking it. Instead i say,
Me: “Because it is good.”
Him: “Why it’s good?”
Me: “It just is. Drink your milk.”
Kids questions aren’t influenced by the constraints of physics in any way whatsoever. Last night, Rollie asked us
“Why can’t you go outside the walls?”
We aren’t sure what this means, but i think he was trying to find out why we can’t walk through walls, and well, damn. The explanation for that is over my head, how the fuck am I going to explain it to him? A good answer for one like that is
“Go ask your father.”
And yes, I now often answer him with only “Because,” or even the dreaded “Because I said so.” You may judge me for this when you have walked a mile in my shoes and listened to the incessant damn interrogation.
Biology is a remarkable thing. Survival of the Fittest actually extends to human children. In addition to their little immune systems and ability to heal from wounds quickly, they also have this neat little mechanism where, just about the time you are going to wring their little necks if they utter another syllable, they pop out with something so funny, or absurd, or clever, that you bust out laughing and forget to kill them. Case in point:
“Mama, when is bunny coming?”
“When is Easter?”
“No. Sunday after next.”
“What is Sunday?”
“The day after Saturday.”
“Is Tiller going to have candy?”
“If y’all are good, you will both get candy for Easter.”
“From the Buster Bunny?
And that, folks, is what happens when you have been watching Bugs Bunny and talking about the Easter Bunny all in the same day.