Since Breuklyn has been in Pre-K, there has been a lot of talk about letters and numbers around here. My mom says that when I was Breuklyn's age we would drive around in the car and I would yell out in my most dramatic I-must-know-this-right-now voice, "MOM! What does S-T-O-P spell? MOM! What about M-C-D-O-N-A... hey! You're driving too fast!!! What does Y-I-E-L-D spell? Huh? What does Yeeee-lllld mean? What? Merge? What? MOM! What does..." My poor mom. I can just envision her blood pressure rising as she gripped the steering wheel of our Tempo in frustration. As my dad always says, "It's payback time."
Breuklyn loves to ask questions. Ok, loves is actually an understatement.
Where does the sun go at night? (It goes to bed, like you need to. Now, go.to.sleep.)
Why do I have to brush my teeth? Will they really fall out? Are you sure? (Have you seen 75% of the residents of the city that we live in? Yes? Well, they are proof that teeth do indeed fall out and are sometimes never seen from again.)
Why does that man have weird hair? (I don't know. But I do know that he doesn't need you commenting on it.)
Why do you roll your eyes like that? (It's an instinct that keeps my head from falling off, thanks for asking.)
Where does Dora go when I turn off the tv? (She hangs out at Boots' house. Duh. )
If Paizlee eats baby food, do I get to eat Breuklyn food? (Yes, broccoli is Breuklyn food. Congratulations.)
I have never claimed to have an abundance of patience. Sarcasm is often my only salvation from collapsing into a sobbing mess on the floor. After a whole week of Brad gleefully escaping to work and me dealing with Paizlee teething and Maddux being a typical two-year-old, I was ready to move to an undisclosed location. As I was folding the 436th load of laundry, Breuklyn began her usual onslaught of questions. "Mommy, why do we have to wear clothes?" Ugh. I calmly told her, "I am terribly sorry, but you are not allowed to use the word, "why" for the rest of the day. You just can't. Mommy's head is going to explode and you just need to find something else to do.
Breuklyn looked up at me and said, "W-H-Y?" She giggled. "You said not to say "why", but you didn't say not to spell it! So... W-H-Y do we have to wear clothes?"
Ok, seriously? I am running away.