Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Take your stinking paws off her, you damned dirty ape!

A bit of advice for any toddlers who are planning to grow up and woo my daughter: the road to her heart goes straight through her stomach.

Another bit of advice: Take your stinking paws off her, you damned dirty ape!

Jewel still has a lot to say but not many real words to use to express herself. This does not stop her, however, from expressing herself. With some simple gestures, a little hitting and scratching and the not-so occasional classic tantrum, she gets her points across.

The vocabulary she understands, however, is broad and deep, especially when she's motivated. What else do we expect, I suppose, from the sister of the brother who looked out the window at the clouds as we descended through them at sunset back into his home state and declared, "The view is magnificent."

Seriously, dude? You're four. You've got a few years before the SAT.

When I arrived home from work last night, 3B was sleeping off his jet lag on the couch and Mama was giving Jewel a bath. I got a quick snack and headed in to relieve Mama so she could finish the creamy, spicy asparagus potato soup she'd made us for dinner. Jewel, of course, dropped her toys, stood up, walked to the edge of the tub and started whining incessantly for my food.

I believe she may have learned this technique from Barky while she was still in utero.

Did I just compare my daughter to a dog? No, no I didn't. And even if I did, I'm her father, so it's OK. As for you, Take your stinking paws off her, you damned dirty ape!

I, of course, gave her bites from my snack--graham crackers with peanut butter, if you must know--although I broke off a piece of her heart, apparently, when I wouldn't let her hold the whole thing.

Mama had been trying to get Jewel out of the tub without a classic tantrum because it was time for Jewel to go sleep off her jet lag in her crib, but Jewel kept refusing, using her tested and true civil-disobedience-go-limp-while-wet-and-slippery-as-a-watermelon-seed technique. Seriously, where do babies learn this shit?

However, when Jewel had eaten my entire snack out of my hand, I simply looked at her and said, "Do you want more? There's another one of those in the kitchen for you." Jewel put her head down, lifted her leg over the edge of the tub and was out faster than you could say, "Jumping Jill Flash."

Another lesson for you would-be suitors of Jewel: it's not what you ask, it's how you ask.

And, again...

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