Sunday, March 27, 2011

carly kaboom

I couldn't NOT record this conversation with my {ahem} stinker of a 2-year-old, Carly...

Backstory: Historically, we have never allowed the children to take things with them into their class at church--no toys, no blankies, no lovies--nothing. And they have really handled that just fine. Neither of the girls have ever been attached to any particular thing, so I that certainly helps. However, a few weeks ago, Carly's teacher hunted me down and asked for Carly's "ducky," the one she was begging for over and over and saying was in her mommy's bag. So I relented. "After all," her teacher (who happens to be a dear friend of mine) reasoned, "a lot of the kids bring their lovies in, and she was seeing them all with their things..." Her teachers told me that she never set Ducky down even once, and, sure enough, he was wholly intact and in her grip when I picked her up. Since then (it's been a few weeks), I have allowed her to take something with her every Sunday, provided that her something is a small something.

So this morning, as we were all getting ourselves ready for church, she was on the hunt. "I'm looking for something wittle," she said. She decided on several options, but her favorite choice was a [large] pink doggy/lovey blanket. Half-engaged in her decision-making process, and half-focused on my own preparations, I reminded her that she needed something little. I believe I remarked several times, "No, honey, he's not little," as she repeatedly requested to take the dog.

Continuing in my own tasks, I didn't pay much attention to her. I was only half-listening [again] a few minutes later, when she said about her dog, "Mommy, I want to name him 'Little.'"

"Oh, good, honey. That's a good name for a dog," I mumbled.

"Mommy?" she said.

"Yes Carly?"

"I wanna take him to chuuurch."

"No honey," I sighed, "remember, he's not lii..." :|

She got me. She got me good. She just looked at me and blinked those big blue eyes, as if to say, "Was there something you wanted to say, Mommy?" I grinned to myself but tried not to let her see, and I ignored the conversation. That stinker knew what I was saying, and I need not say it again.

Is it foolish for me to hope she won't get any more clever than this?