You know how your kids do something cute or funny, and you think it’s the most darling thing ever, and you laugh at them, and this encourages them to repeat it?  . . . . Over and over and over?  Generally it’s something that someone older than them would do, such as:

Knowing how to blow their nose:  how cute that you say “blow” and they actually do!  But then they start to pull lots and lots of tissues (Tissue?  I hardly even know you!  – sorry for the tangent:  this moment was brought to you by a joke that my aunt never gets tired of) out of the box even though there’s no way that their nose can hold that much slime, or they start blowing their noses without the aid of a tissue (Tissue?  I hardly even know you! – I can’t help myself).

Finding food in the fridge:  how precious that they want to forage for themselves!  Except when they think they should be able to take out ALL foods, not just toddler-friendly foods.  This generally consists of eggs, butter (which is promptly unwrapped), and unscrewing the eggbeaters cap so that it spills all over when you open the door.

Cleaning up after themselves after eating:  what a big person to put dishes away!  Except when the dishes get thrown out with the food, and perfectly fine food/beverages get deposited of, such as half of a sandwich or spoons or a full bottle of teriyaki sauce (see about for thoughts on foraging).

Reading in bed:  well, everyone needs to be able to wind down.  Except the wind down process includes sleeping *with* the books.  As well as having an alarm clock in bed.  And a sippy cup.  And fifteen animals and blankets.  And if the fridge could fit, you know it’d be up there as well.

Helping out in the kitchen:  well, what a little helper to want to stir while I’m stirring, to want to bring me eggs (again, see above about the fridge), to help out with cutting mushrooms with a sharp knife?  To try to help open the hot oven?  To want to monitor the stir-fry veggies?  Yeah, not so much with the helping as much as with the sending mama to the CSD.

Saying adult-type things:  it’s great when children find their voices, and sometimes they say the cutest things!  My brother’s first sentence:  “Bite my sistie’s bapple.”  One of my first:  “I not noxious.”  Around here, we’ve heard kitty, puppy, onetwofree, twofee (two feet), mooooom, dad, grandahdee, sddeee (sadie), cohl (cole), haht (hot).  Darling!  Can’t get enough!  But then there’s his new favorite.  Note:   he was prompted when saying this.  But now he’s not.  Everything is “Gowee!”  Generally it’s meant just as a general statement about moving:  Hubby and JJ were watching football on Saturday, and JJ kept yelling, “Go!  Go!  Goweeeee!” as the player was running with the ball.  If he’s done with his food, it’s time for it to “gowee”.  If it’s time to leave the library, time to “gowee”.  Only with the dog does he *really* mean it.  And he means it.  A lot.

He rises from his nap.  Time for me to gowee.

Ps.  The nightly running thing preceding the “gowee”  a) is a mandatory nightly event, 2) must be partaken of by all, and iii) always involves running while zerberting.  NOTE:  this was a cookie-free night.  Oy.

Daily Drivel, JJ Jawings