This morning, as I was driving the little Torqueling to school (she’s 3, but goes to a Montessori school weekday mornings), there was a fly in the car. She’s generally fascinated by, and scared of, bugs; it’s a fine balance. Anyway, we’ve told her lots of times that flies can’t hurt you, they’re just annoying. Apparently the “can’t hurt you” finally sunk in, because she was just fawning over this little fly.
“Awww, he’s cute! He’s just a baby!”
“I think he likes me!”
“He’s looking at me with his big eyes! His wings are so tiny!”
“Daddy, we need to help him, he’s a baby and he misses his momma and daddy!” So apparently now I have to rescue, rather than swat, this fly.
And then the kicker: “Can I be a fly for Christmas?” “Um, sweetie, we dress up for Halloween, not Christmas. And a fly, really?”
My son will be 3 next month, and is generally hilarious (when he’s not being a pill). We have an old phone (landline, with curly handset cord and all) that’s his to play with. The other day, he says, “Oh no, my phone is dead! It need new batteries.” So he goes and gets his Magnadoodle, pulls out the pen thingy with the metal tip, and starts pretending to use it as a screwdriver to get the screws out of the handset, so he could “replace the batteries.” We cracked up.
Also, my husband and I have been playing a videogame lately, and part of the game is picking locks. When you go to pick a lock, it brings up a special screen that shows the tumblers, which our son noticed and asked about. One day last week, I was in the bathroom with the door locked (because otherwise the child will open the door). He came and tried the handle, and, upon discovering that it was locked, said, “I need a lockpick! I need a lockpick!”
This happened when my daughter was just under two years old. We had been picking dandelions a lot recently. On a late summer night, I was holding her out on the deck and we were looking at stars. I’m saying something like, “Look at all the pretty stars” and pointing up. She reaches as far as her little arms will go and says, “Wantsa pick one!”
In our house, hide-and-seek worked a little differently…
The 4 yr old would announce a game of hiding…
Then she would take you by the hand and lead you to stand near the curtains behind the couch. Then she would run out of the room, immediately turn around , run back and “find” you.
Much happy laughing ensued.
Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it! Mudgirl has been a red-kneed tarantula for Halloween the past two years! (And if you think that wasn’t a bitch of a costume to figure out. . .seems like a fly’d be pretty easy!)
My daughter loves to play hide and seek.
Her game play has developed since she started.
We first started at age 2.5yrs.
Back then, the game consisted of me counting and her going under the blanket. When I reached 10, she would jump out of the blanket and yell, “I’m here!”
At age 3, she started actually hiding in good spots.
At the count of 10, I would look for her (obviously I would see her) but I’d pretend like I didn’t. She’d be laughing until I came somewhat closeby. She then would jump out and say “I’m here!”
Now at age 3.5, she hides very well and won’t say anything until I find her. But her idea of hiding still is more about her not seeing me. Sometimes she would stand facing a wall with her hands covering her face. She would think I can’t see her when she’s right in front of me. She’d still giggle as I pretend I can’t see her.
About a month ago, we were at my wife’s aunt’s place for a bbq.
After eating, one of the uncles lit up a cigarette in plain view of my daughter.
After he left the house, she whispered to my wife, “Mommy, why did grandpa uncle put fire in his mouth.”
My wife laughed and tried to explain that it wasn’t fire.
Another time about 4 months ago, we went to a toy store to buy a gift for a friend. We stopped by a McDonalds for lunch. As I was ordering and picking up the food, my wife and daughter sat at the table. Beside our table was an old man just finishing up his meal. As the man left, some fries fell from the man’s tray to the table. Right after 3 young girls (Two 10-12 yrs old girls and one 7 yrs old) came to the table. My daughter loves watching older girls. Anyway, she watched in horror as the 7yr old girl picked up the fries from the table and ate them. My daughter’s eyes were wide open in shock. The older girls started berating the 7yr old and telling her not to eat fries from the table. My daughter heard all that. As we ate our food, the girls also ate their food beside us. The whole time my daughter would look (out of the corner of her eyes) at the 7yr old. Each time the 7yr old ate a fry, she would whisper to my wife. “That one didn’t touch the table so it’s ok.”
My wife had to step out to control herself.
When she was about 2.5 yrs old, she was getting into names. full names, last names, nicknames, etc
We told her our full names.
I asked her what my full name is and she answered, “XXXXX Lee.”
Then I asked her what my last name is and she replied “Lee”
Then I asked her what my first name is and she answered, “Daddy”
I laughed and asked her what my full name is and she answered, “XXXXX Lee.”
Again I asked what my first name is and she answered, “Daddy.”
TruCelt, this is so awesome. I read it a few days ago and I still think of it and laugh out loud. I can hear the petulant little girl voice and everything.
My granddaughter is going to be 3 in a couple of weeks. When I take her to the local ‘sprayground’ (a large area in the park where they have a rubberized surface with places that water sprays up out of the ground at intervals.) She will stand by a ‘spout’ and yell at the ground, “Water!”, pause for 3 or 4 seconds, “WATER!!!” repeat until that spout sprays. Then she does a ‘happy dance’ in the spray, confident that it sprayed because she told it too.
Oh, yeah. When my girl was 2, she’d shout at the traffic lights. “Come ONNNNNN, green light! Come ONNNNNNN, green light!” And was so proud of herself when it changed. “I did it!”
I was reminded of another one this morning, when some other little girls in her preschool had caught a frog: she and my dad are always finding and catching animals outside. Caterpillars, grasshoppers, lizards, and more. Well, one day they caught a frog. I knew that it’d die if we tried to keep it, so my wife and I told her he’d be happier if we let him go in the flowerbed, where he could eat bugs.
So we went to the flowerbed, and she’s just holding the frog, saying, “Aww, I’ll miss you froggie!” Eventually she’d put him down, but seconds later scoop him back up again. This happened about three times. Finally, I told her, “Sweetie, if you hold him too long, he’s gonna go peepee in your hand.”
