FLASHBACK: April 28, 2014
It took us ten minutes to get Billie to brush her teeth tonight because she insisted she didn’t know how to use her legs.
Now, an hour and a half after her bedtime, she’s wide awake on her bed singing to her building blocks and drawing giraffe kitty cats.
Billie: “Daddy! Come in here and see my drawing!”
Doug: “I would, Billie, but I forgot how to use my legs.”
…I feel like 90% of parenting is passive aggressive retaliation.
And I’m totally OK with that.
Billie: “Good night, sweet bubble. You may be dead in this world, but you live in my heart. Bless America, you friend of my soul. Find your bliss.”
Me: “Did you… Did you just hold a funeral for a popped soap bubble?”
Billie: “Of course I did.”
Flashback: July 28, 2013
Billie: Momma! I got jokes!
Me: Oh, yea? Let’s hear one.
Billie: Why did the chicken cross the road?
Me: I don’t know, why?
Billie: Because he knows I’m telling a joke!
Me: Wait- what?
Me: That’s a very interesting–
Billie: And then the cat crossed the road and the chicken said, “whatchoo doin’, cat? GET OUT OF MY JOKE!”
…Five minutes later and this joke is still going. Plus side? This is the most self aware joke I’ve heard in a while.
Billie: “You can’t get upset, Callie. Because, at the end of the day, you are just a human. And humans are meat. And people eat meat. So don’t get too serious because someone will probably eat you anyways.”
Teacher: “Hi Billie! Good morning! How are you?”
Billie: “Oxygen helps you breathe. But trees don’t breathe oxygen. They give that to us. Trees breathe carbon dioxide. We need the oxygen, though. Happy oxygen day!!!”
Teacher: “Oh, uh, yes! Happy oxygen day to you, too!”
Billie: “Oh, and ‘Hi’ and all that other stuff.”
Billie: “Do you smell that smell? It smells like a bread I used to have when I was a baby. I used to sneak it when you weren’t looking. I was a secret agent baby and I had a secret agent baby home and a secret agent baby computer. And I made an invention to make me grow bigger so that I would like that food that I’m smelling now. That was when I was little and now I am big. But I am still a secret agent.”
I thought I was a freaking genius when I instituted the “no thank you bite” rule.
I thought I was freaking brilliant.
You see, Billie has always had an issue branching out and trying new foods.
She, quite unlike her mother, is a creature of habit. If you gave her the same meal for the rest of her life she would probably be just fine.
Hence the “no thank you bite” rule.
It compels her to take a bite of everything on her plate, even if she doesn’t really want to. She tries it once, says “no thank you” and we move on. 70% of the time she decides that whatever she just put in her mouth was actually delicious and, despite saying a quick “no thank you” after tasting it, she ends up going back to it.
Thus my daughter expands her food horizons, makes healthier choices, and, most importantly, I feel like a good parent.
Except when it backfires.
Apparently, in my excitement of instituting the “no thank you bite” rule, I forgot to also institute parameters. Namely parameters that prohibited me from having to be responsible for any “no thank you” bites…
I have had to eat some really disgusting stuff, guys.
No amount of “no thank you bite” solidarity is worth this.
Worse? Her talents for negotiation are growing. The following conversation ensued last night:
Billie: “Mommy, can you put a baby in your belly, please? I want a brother or sister. Please?”
Me: “No, baby. Not anytime soon.”
Billie: “How about a ‘no thank you’ try?”
Billie: “Yup! You have to! A no thank you try!!”
I… I… Just…
Billie: “I told you it would be hard having a child. I told you!”
Me: “What? When could you have possibly told me that?”
Billie: “Before you had me. I came to your dreams and I said, ‘Mommy. It’s going to be hard having a child!’ And you don’t listen to your dreams I guess.”
I’m creeped out.
But also… Inspired?