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.
I used to have game.
But now, when random dudes approach me, I have a five year old who says shit like,
“you’re talking to my mom right now. She’s weird. Did you know that? She makes me blow my snot into tissues like some kind of ANIMAL.”
Best. Deterrant. Ever?
Those of you who know me know my penchant for messes. My car might as well be a mobile testament to that fact. A vehicular art piece personifying my internal struggle with order and asepsis.
In an act of kindness and futility combined, Doug and Billie decided to surprise me and get my car detailed. When I got to my car this morning I saw that, not only was it spotless, but it had a few, uh, accouterments added to its interior.
“Uhhh… Is my steering wheel bejeweled?”
Doug: “Yea. Billie said it needed to be decorated.”
“Oh. Right. Ok. Um… That’s a very pink air freshener.”
Doug: “it’s a Berry Blast scented fleur dis lis. Also Billie’s idea.”
“Douglas.”
Doug: “Yes?”
“My floor mats are leopard print.”
Doug: “Yea… We–”
“When I mentioned it would be nice to have my car detailed I didn’t mean–”
Billie: “You wanted details, woman! I GAVE YOU DETAILS.”
Aye. Thanks, Billie.
Just download a star and write a video…
Billie: “What is this show?”
Me: “Oh, I’m watching something where they’re showing clips of the Miss America Pageant.”
Billie: “The Miss America Pageant?”
Me: “Yes.”
Billie: (looking closely at the clips of women walking around in dresses) “That’s not what it should be called.”
Me: “No? What should it be called, then?”
Billie: “It should be called, ‘Do You Like Me?’ Yea. That’s the name of that show.”
Well… Basically.
Billie: “There’s a kid in my class who likes rice crispy treats so every day I give him my rice crispy treat.”
Me: “That’s really kind of you. Does he share anything with you in return or do you just give him what you have?”
Billie: “I just give it to him. But yesterday I wanted Benjamin back and he didn’t give me Benjamin.”
Me: “Wait- Is Benjamin the name of the kid or-?”
Billie: “No! It’s the name of my rice crispy treat.”
Me: “You named your snack?”
Billie: “Of course I did. He’s my food family. He’s my brother.”
Me: “You gave your brother away?”
Billie: “Well, yea. I give you away to your work every day and you come back.”
Me: “Right. But I’m not a delicious rice krispy treat.”
Billie: “Yea. ‘Cause then you would get eaten. (Pause) I really wish my brother wasn’t so delicious. Now he’s some kid’s poop.”
…This conversation took a turn somewhere and I did nothing to help it. 🙄
Me: “What is your teachers name?”
Billie: “MRS. FRANKENSTEIN!”
Me: “You mean Madame Florence?”
Billie: “THAT’S her name?”
Me: “Yea.”
Billie: “It’s not Mrs. Frankenstein?”
Me: “Nope.”
Billie: “You sure?”
Me: “Pretty sure it’s been Madame Florence ever since you started this school two weeks ago.”
Billie: “Her name hasn’t been Mrs. Frankenstein for two weeks?!!”
Me: “If not longer.”
Billie: (thinks for a moment) “Well, she’s lucky.”
Me: “Why’s that?”
Billie: “Because Mrs. Frankenstein is a cool name. I guess I’m just nice like that.”
Oh, yea. That’s it. Nice.
Billie: “Mom, May I have cereal? But NO MILK! I’m allergic to milk.”
Me: “Oh, yea? (No, she’s not) What would you like instead?”
Billie: “Chocolate milk.”
Me: “You know that’s still milk, right? Just with chocolate?”
Billie: “Oh, yea. But the chocolate makes me not allergic.”
….I really wish that was how it worked.
FLASHBACK: August 14, 2014
Billie: “Mom. The sun is tricking us. It’s yellow, and it puts its yellow on everything. On the trees, on the benches, in the park… Even the sky is different looking because of the sun. And then you try to look into it and it puts spots in your eyes. You try to say, “Hey sun! Don’t put your yellow on everything! Colors are not the same!” And it puts spots in your eyes!
Without the sun colors would not look the same. We just see colors the way the sun wants us to. It’s tricky, the sun is.”
There is a metaphor in here somewhere that I cannot find because it is 7am and my kid decided to be a philosopher rather than sleep like a normal person.
FLASHBACK: August 11, 2014
I just found an ink pen, finger paint, and a costume zebra tail in my bed sheets.
Me: “You know, I can’t be sure, but I think this is your fault.”
Billie: “Well. If you can’t be sure then we should just blame it on daddy.”
Solid plan of action, kid.
Billie's Momma 