Friday, January 23, 2009

Not That Kind of Rain, Dear

My daughter has said a few priceless things over the holiday season that I’ve been meaning to write down. Here, for your reading pleasure, are some random bits of cuteness…

In the middle of her bath one day, Violet looked distraught. Worried, I inquired as to whether she needed to get out and use the potty. “No,” she replied haughtily, “I no hafta use the potty. I left my pee-pee in the tub.”

Close friends of ours, Paula and JC, have a five-month old son named Matteo. Violet has seen him several times recently, but has only sporadically mastered the pronunciation of his name. Instead, she calls him "Mr. Tay-o" and "Mr. Potato Head," alternately.

There was a small gathering at my grandparents’ house to celebrate their 57th anniversary on Christmas Eve. Paula was passing out gifts to various members of the family. She handed Violet a gift and instructed her to give it to Uncle Brian. Brian looked at Violet and asked, “Well, who is this from?” Without missing a beat, Violet replied, “I don’t know, read the square.” Duh, Uncle Brian.

Violet’s birthday falls between Christmas and New Year’s, and I had been hyping her birthday party for weeks. The morning of the all-exciting event, I entered Violet’s bedroom as soon as she woke up. “Happy Birthday, sweetheart!” I exclaimed. Violet got up, wiped her tousled hair out of her eyes, and asked, “Is there a cake?”

My sister Heather came over one night and was sitting at the kitchen table with Violet. Heather cracked open a fortune cookie for Violet, and then proceeded to read the fortune: "You should treat yourself to something of quality, you deserve it." Violet then took the paper from Heather, looked at it, and proclaimed, “It says, ‘You need to watch WALL-E.’”

I will end with a conversation that took place the day the Christmas lights went up. My Mom placed a lighted polar bear, angel, and reindeer in the front yard. Violet and I were looking out of the window at the decorations.

“What’s that?” Violet inquired, pointing at the deer.

“That’s a reindeer,” I replied

“That’s a reindeer. He’s wet.” She deduced.

“What?” I asked.

“The rain. The rain deer is wet.”

Makes sense to me…