Caveat Emptor: Apparently, the latest in graffiti cool.  So far, I’ve seen it spray-painted on a retaining wall near a place that does something with some kind of petroleum product (ask the Jellyman; he knows what it really is) and on an underpass on the way to work.  I do not know of what I am meant to beware, however, so the warning is less than helpful.

Cover Your Mouth! and Look, Don’t Touch!: Phrases I say millions of times WITH ABSOLUTELY NO RESULTS.  This is doing wonders for my self-esteem.

But, Moooommmmmm: Dangerous, as I am so tempted to do ANYTHING that will make this particular noise stop.

No Big.  Baby!: Orange’s latest contribution to the household’s conversation.  She has very strong opinions about what is big and what is little (Daddy is big, Orange is big.  Daddy’s shoes are big, Orange’s shoes are little.  Etc.).  However, she cannot bring herself to say the word “little,” so she substitutes “baby.”  Whatever works.  Apple’s picked this up as well.  The other day he asked me where “Baba” was.  “Grandpa’s at work,” I said.  “No big Baba!  Baby Baba!” he indignantly replied.  The *%&$ Homer Simpson toy was missing.*

Little Full, Lotta Sap: We cut our own Christmas tree this year, which makes me feel very Griswold-y.  Luckily, our lovely blue spruce has not broken any windows and does not appear to contain any squirrels.  Raisin wants to be able to plant it in our yard after Christmas because we got a book from the library in which the family does just that (note to self: read adorable Christmas books all the way through before checking out).  I think I dodged that bullet by explaining that we’d have to dig the tree up with the roots for that to work.  Check back with me around January 1st, and I’ll let you know.  I may have to add an explanation of planting seasons and frost dates, about which I guarantee you I do not know enough to satisfy the questions she’d ask.

Eating an Elephant: My approach to Christmas this year.  I am going to get it all done, because I am going to be sensible and do a little bit at a time.  When I explained this to the Jellyman, he supported the idea (he’s a wise man, my husband, and not given to pointing out the flaws in my plans) but had to have the elephant thing explained.  Somebody back me up on this one.

*I feel I have to explain that the Homer Simpson toy came with some kind of fast food kids’ meal.  When I saw that the kids had gotten Simpsons toys, I threw them all away.  Or so I thought, until Apple found this one and started calling it Baba.  And now I have to live with it, because otherwise I’ll be the mom who threw Grandpa in the trash.**

**I have fewer qualms about being the mom who “lost” Orange’s red shoes.  They were once part of a Halloween costume for Raisin, and they are at least a full size too big for Orange.  Nevertheless, she wore them for about 2 straight weeks (and that includes sleeping) until her toes (which I saw occasionally when I forcibly removed the shoes so she could take a bath or put on clean socks) were all red and raw.  So I hid the shoes.  She only asked for them once or twice today, a great improvement over the crying that ensued yesterday when they first went “missing.”


About Grape

I've got the world's best kids and husband. Great house, steady job. I'm living the American dream. The trick is to appreciate it. I'm working on that part.
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2 Responses to Phraseology

  1. Jody says:

    If the dying tree is still causing a problem, explain that they are mulched and help grow flowers (if your tree gets picked up) or that they are providing necessary cover for birds (if you dump yours in the woods, as we do).

    It’s actually pretty damn hard to plant a Christmas tree, because after it’s been in the house, you have to re-acclimatize it to the outdoors before it can be moved outside, let alone planted. Supposedly a lot of those potted trees don’t last two years.

    I love those toddler/preschool fancies that kids get — and I suppose they’re even more adorable now that I’m not in constant-translation mode. (Although — my in-laws brought old video of a trip the kids took to their house in 2005, while I was at a conference. I noticed that the kids would repeatedly make comments that their grandpa could not understand — they’d say something perfectly legible (“Baby Jesus in Manger,” for example) and their grandpa would say, “uh, okay” and plow ahead with his own questions or comments, as the particular child’s forehead would furrow and a frown would start.

    Of course, it’s possible that, even at this late date, I’m still feeling guilty for leaving my poor babies with other people — people who couldn’t even understand what they were saying! 🙂

  2. Jane says:

    The fact that someone would spraypaint graffiti in Latin, of all things, is something I find irrationally amusing. It gives me hope for the world.

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