Our furnace fan is loud. It is very, very loud. It is so loud that when it is running and I am putting on makeup in the bathroom, I cannot hear the Boogie getting into the fridge ... helping herself to yogurt ... finding a spoon in the drawer ... punching a hole through the foil yogurt lid with the spoon ... proceeding to eat half the container through the hole in the foil lid. I don't know how she managed to eat that much through the hole and only spill one drop on my couch. Perhaps later I will find dried yogurt in other places ...
Yesterday morning when I gave her some cereal for breakfast she told me, "I'm a dolphin!"
"Oh, really?" I replied. "Do dolphins eat cereal?"
"No," she said, "they eat rocks."
She loves her burpies and must always have one accessible. She knows where the clean ones are kept and helps herself to them as often as she can get away with it (read: as often as the Mama doesn't notice) and usually has between 2 and 4 at her immediate disposal. She sucks and chews on the corners -- it totally gives me the creeps to think about chewing on fabric -- and they quickly get soaked. Yesterday she got a clean one from the drawer and hugged and kissed it. "Oh my burpie! *kiss kiss kiss* I lub you so much!" She put it in her unmade bed and pulled the covers over it and came out of her room and closed the door. "Shhh," she told us, "Burpie's sleepin'. Oh! Burpie's cryin'!" She rushed back in and retrieved it from her bed. "It's okay, burpie. I right here." More kisses.
The phrase "squeaky toys" never fails to induce much giggling. Super heroes are "super hear its." Chapstick is "lickstick."
When we go places she introduces herself to perfect strangers. "Hi, I Boogie [only she says her full name]. Dat's Honey. Dat's Daddy." She waves at people far away: "Hi, guys! Hi! Hi, guys!" She is bewildered when they don't see her and wave back.
We played Scrabble during her nap yesterday and hadn't put it away when she got up. She looked at the letter tiles for a long time, asking me what each one was. While she doesn't recognize the letters, I can see a pattern. Letters with curves like C and D she thinks are J. She thinks M and W are N. O is oval (which it is!) and she consistently recognizes T ... but not X. When we put the game away she dropped on the floor crying: "Ohhhh, my letters," she mourned.
The cellar door at 52 is in the dining room. It is locked and the key is kept in a kitchen drawer. Last Tuesday FIL told me that the key had been missing for about a week and asked me to keep an eye out for it. Within a couple of hours I found it ... in the bottom of the washing machine after doing the load with all the Boogie's clothes. That little booger must have put it in her pocket one day and then her dirty clothes went into the hamper without us realizing she had the key!
Supervised yogurt eating has been completed. Back to regularly scheduled Monday morning tasks ...