“Mamma, I want to watch chhotabim!”
“But you haven’t had your lunch. Even chhotabim must be eating lunch at lunch time.”
“But chhotabim have soooomany laddoo no?”
*Thinking, WTF, okay, I will try another strategy*
Do you know that there is no teevee in Paloma’s house?
But there is teevee in my house no? Come, let’s watch chotabim!
Re comes home from school, takes off his ‘rainy’ shoes and runs to the bathroom to rinse them. He then turns to me and says, “Mamma, where is my shoe towel?”
“Your WHAT?” *wondering what the fuck is a shoe towel*
“Shoe towel, mamma. I need to wipe my shoes.”
I hand him a rag and say, “Here, use this!”
He shakes his head in annoyance, and then runs to pull out a dainty pink face towel from the drawer and says, “Onwy like this it can be.”
Said towel has now been to places it has never been before.
“Mamma, you are making me upset. Then I am going to run away!”
“But where are you goving?”
“I am goving to my angry room.”
Nice. Now I want an angry island.
Mamma, you be quiet. You don’t scream, okay?
I am not screaming. I am being assertive.
Then don’t be othertive.
Re and I watching Shrek 2. The scene where Fiona cups Shrek’s face in her hands and gives him that lovey dovey look. Re is overwhelmed (the sentimental fool!)
“Oh, so sweet, that didi is so happy with her dadda!”
“That’s not her dadda, that’s her husband,” I say.
“What’s a hubband?”
AHHH… what an opening, I think. My mind is brimming with all the evil things I can say to answer this question. Instead, I say:
“It’s what a mamma calls a dadda.”