Friday night, well ensconced in our Friday Night Ritual (Dinner at Chili’s with Amelia and The Guy On My Couch, followed by a trip to The Target Store, which, of course, is a sacrosanct tradition), she marched around the store, proudly showing off her pink Starbucks Cake Pop.

No matter how full of my sour cream and cheese she is, she insists upon a Cake Pop that she eventually feeds to The Guy on the Couch. Pure happiness for a buck-fifty.

Can’t beat it.

She’d found herself a bright green sparkly hat which she proudly wore during the times that she hadn’t placed it upon the head of The Guy on the Couch – they’d been playing some game with it while I grabbed food for the week.

Eventually we wound our way, just as we always do, to the Legos. Carefully, she had to inspect each box to find the one that she wanted. She vacillated between a lighthouse and a dinosaur but eventually ended up choosing a teeny red speedboat. A good, solid careful choice.

Soon – too soon for me – it was time to go home. Lovingly, she’d placed the clearance Hello Kitty Backpack onto her back, marching toward the checkout with a bounce and a wiggle.

“Lookit my Pack-Pack, Mama! It’s HELLO KITTY.” She turned and swiveled around so that I could admire it as we stood there unloading the cart.

“It’s beautiful, Mimi-Girl,” I replied, just as I had the last twelve times she’d showed it off to me.

“Can I show Dada?” She asked coyly, fluttering her eyelashes at me. “He home from work yet?”

“Yes, Mimi,” I replied. “I just talked to him – we’re going to grab him some dinner to take home to him.”

“Can he put me to bed?” She asked for the fifty-fifth time that night.

“Yes, Baby, he can put you to bed,” I replied for the fifty-fifth time.

“Mama, we’re at sixteen,” she pointed at the check-out lane. “Dere’s five-teen and seventeen,” she carefully showed me. “Why?”

“You chose it, Mimi,” The Guy on my Couch who is endlessly patient with her questions. She tilted her head up to him coyly, “You like my Pack-Pack, Big Ben?”

“It’s beautiful, Mimi,” he replied for the thirty-eleventy-niner time.

She spun and twirled in front of the mirror next to her, admiring her Pack-Pack. “I love you, Hello Kitty Pack-Pack.” I giggled at her pronunciation of the word, “Backpack.”

Eventually she got tired of preening in front of the makeshift mirror and turned to the lady in line in front of us, who had been casually watching my daughter twirl and whirl.

“You like my Hello Kitty Pack-Pack?” Amelia asked.

“Yes, yes I do,” she smiled down at my beaming daughter.

She turned to me and spoke, “How old is she?”

“Just turned three,” I replied proudly.

“Man, she’s such a chatterbox. I can’t believe she talks so much! My child is about her age and she doesn’t speak quite so well.”

I beamed, ear-to-fucking-ear.

If she only knew.

If she only knew.

Comments = full of the awesome. Like gravy. I can haz an RSS RSS feed .

27 Responses to Words Unspoken

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>

 

About Twitter Band Back Together Facebook Muschroom Printing Subscribe

blog advertising is good for you
wholesale kids clothing

Cheap and cool tutu dresses with readers

Buy Cool Toys for Your Children at Everbuying.com at a cheap price.

Archives

Marchin’ for Mimi!


blog advertising is good for you