I am listening to Annie play. Her imagination has just bloomed over the past year or so. She often plays with her "kids" or "preschool friends" (all imaginary, of course. I am wondering when her preschool friends will morph into kindergartners.)
Anyway, I just heard Annie exclaim to her friends, "Uh-oh. I hear a police-car coming to get my dad!" She ran over to the "house" and found her dad. (Don't worry, he's not Ryan - okay, that can be taken the wrong way. Let's just say I can't actually see this dad.) "Dad! Dad! Why did you just tease me when I was talking to you? Gotta go! Bye!" I'm not sure if Dad got hauled away or not, because suddenly Annie was at school chatting with her vice-principal (those two are very chummy!) and and planning Annie's move to....Mars? Alaska? 3 blocks away?
This type of play and the conversations that go with it can go on indefinitely. So I will be chuckling all day, except for when I have to admonish Annie, who will in turn tell me that it's not her, but one of her kids, saying "dammit!" and "shut-up" and then I will have to send both of them to Annie's room (after I put my head in my hands and close my eyes for a moment's reprieve. I know where Annie learned dammit *sigh* and I think I can thank the non-imaginary friends - and adored older sister - for words like shut-up and stupid and dummy. Can I just say that as fun as it is, parenting can be hard work, (over-) exposing us - as parents - to our many shortcomings and frailties?)
I will, not for the first time (and certainly not for the last time, either), explain to Annie that she is the one in charge of the things her kids say. She will insist that she is not. I will insist that she is, and that little conversation will continue until one of us (me, most likely) shakes her head in frustration and gives up. And then Annie will go back to her happy la-la-land and continue her day of play. And I will be thankful that despite the, um, inappropriate vocabulary choices and little squabbles that pop up, we are having good times.
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2 comments:
Thank goodness Annie's father is the picture of stability, not irascible and never uses salty language - especially during church. Otherwise, Allison, I don't know what you'd do with your family.
My kids do the s-poopy word, and *sigh* I ALSO know where they get it from!! (of course they quit after a few years once they understand that it's naughty...or at least they quit in front of ME!)
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