This is my new name. Shouldmommeee.
Shouldmommeee getoutta bed. Should maaah-ah-mmee go reada book in yourroom.
They’re not questions. They’re statements of strong persuasion. Like a mafia boss. Like if I know what is good for me, I will…
This morning, Jonah added a new colloquialism to his repertoire. Imitating Scott and I when we “voice” the thoughts of our pet(s), joking about our neighbor cat who is in the house (talk about powers of persuasion) trying to mooch food, Jonah said, “Molly’s like, ‘Hey, can I have a bite of your popsicle?”
And then, as we are sitting on the floor “having a pic-ah-nic” with a toasted blueberry English muffin, and Molly is incessantly poking her head in, trying to get a sniff to see if it’s mooch-worthy, Jonah says, “Molly is just saying, ‘Hey, can I have a bite of your blue-ber-ree Eng-uh-lish muff-fin?”
Lest you think I only feed Jonah treats for breakfast (at least the popsicle is homemade from frozen mango, banana and white grape juice) he also snacked on leftover poussin with me — from Scott’s fancy birthday lunch yesterday, wherein we got to meet chef-testant Jenn Biesty.
We also had preschool that morning (Transition, Day 3) played at the park that afternoon, and got a babysitter and went to see Avatar that evening. All in all, an excellent birthday day, if I may say so myself.