Bambina has been in rare form these days. She wears me out, but it's a fun way to get exhausted. She has a small stuffed dog named Meyer. He is the love of her life. She got him as a baby and he looks every day as old as the two years of "love" to which he's been subjected. The other day during Quiet Time she told me that she was Meyer's mommy and I was his daddy. I asked her if that meant we were married (wow, I'm so traditional...). She looked at me like I was a moron: "Yeeeeesss, Mama. We married." So I asked her whether we've been married a long time, what flowers were at our wedding, etc. (A long time, purple flowers). Then I asked, "So where did we get married, my love?," expecting "park" or "garden" or "temple" or something. Her answer?
"The Home Depot."
I haven't laughed that hard in a very long time.
Then yesterday she was regaling us at lunch with the shabbat songs she learned at preschool. It's a pretty simple ditty: "Shabbat Shalom (clap!), Shabbat Shalom (clap!)...etc). It's a pretty common tune so we started singing and clapping along with her. Instantly she turned into Debbie Allen from Fame ("Fame costs. And this is where you start payin'. In sweat."). She stood up in the chair, held her hands out with arms at full length and said really loudly, "Everybody stop! You singing it wrong! I show you how!"
We all just fell out laughing, like we'd been called out by a reality show judge who just can't listen to one more note of our atrocious amateur singing. Yup. America voted, and we're being sent home.
Where's Paula Abdul when you need her?