Nell is 2 and a half. And she is full of personality, opinions, and, at this very moment in time, a lot of patience testing. My mom just laughs at her because she reminds her of me as a child. To which all I can say is that my parents are saints.
Driving Thomas to preschool last week:
Thomas: Mama, I call our President Bronco Bama.
Me: Yeah, that was pretty silly when you were littler and thought he was named after the Broncos, huh? But do you remember what his real name is?
Me: Barack Obama. Can you say that?
Thomas: Barack Obama.
Me: Good! So since you know his real name, it’s probably a better idea to call him by his real name. It’s a respect thing, baby.
Nell (loudly and with emphasis): Well, I call him NELL MA-KEPITT!
Me: Oh yeah, Nell? Do you think you’re going to be President someday.
Nell: Yeah. It’s going to be SO cwazy.
Agreed baby girl, agreed.
I went into Nell’s room to get her up from her nap to find her with no clothes on.
Me: Well hey there, Nell, how was your rest?
Nell: I taked off all my clothes because I was doing a dance class instead of my nap.
Me: [Pause to evaluate what my response should be...] Oh, isn’t that something. Let’s get those clothes back on so you can come down and play.
(We later had the “NO grown-ups should ever ask you to take your clothes off body safety rules and oh-by-the-way, you will NEVER be enrolled in a dance class with a nudity requirement chat.)
Me [Picking up a cute coral-y pink striped shirt on clearance]: Do you love this t-shirt, Nell? Should we get it for you?
Nell: Um, no fanks. That is not beautiful enough for ‘mys closet’.
At the dinner table trying to get Nell to eat her food.
Me: Nell, can you eat this bite please?
Nell: Excuse me, mom. I is talking right now.