We were getting ready to leave the house for a walk.
"Your shoes are on the wrong feet," I told Peabody.
When she sat on the floor to fix them, she hit her back on the bookshelf and started crying. I comforted her and said, "You'll feel better when we go for our walk, but your shoes are still on the wrong feet."
Tearfully she replied, "So fix them."
"Me? I'm not going to fix them. You fix them!" I said.
"But, I have a hurt back ..." she said sadly.
I saw a picture of some friends on Facebook and showed them to Peabody.
"Dose are not your friends," she told me. "You are a grown-up. You don' have any friends."
Thanks a lot, kid.
She is super excited about it being Christmastime. The day after Thanksgiving she told us half a dozen times, "Now we can watch Christmas movies! And listen to Christmas music! And look at Christmas decorations!" She said she wanted to watch Rudolph the Rodent Reindeer.
We were trying to agree on a movie. The Boogie wanted White Christmas, but Peabody kept insisting on, "The one with the man, with two letters, in between." I finally figured out what she meant:
She explained to me about time passing:
"Honey, ri' now it's morning time. After morning time, it's night. After night, it's raining. After raining, it's snowing. And after Thanksgiving, it's Christmas!"
She told me seriously, "Well, Honey, I go'd to the store today."
"You did? Who did you go with?" I asked.
She thought about that for a minute, then said, "I drived myself."
"Oh really? What did you drive?"
"I drived the van."
"You did, huh? And what store did you go to?"
"Well, first I go'd to Walmart. An' then I go'd to Target. An' then I go'd to Petsmart. An' Walmart was all out of toys."
She still prefaces action words with "un" unnecessarily: un-cut, un-glue, etc. "Honey, will you please un-zipper me?" means that she wants me to zip up her coat.
One of my favorite things she says is "hims" instead of "his." She observed a little boy repeatedly disobeying his mother, and told us later that "he was loud, and mean to hims mom."
If I refuse her something she tells me, "Well, Honey, I'm jus' really disappointed." I know she means angry, but I play along. "Why are you disappointed?"
"Because you telled me no," she says.
She and the Boogie still disagree about what 101 Dalmations is really called. Peabody calls it 7 Dalmations, upon which the Boogie corrects her, "No, you mean Ten Thousand Dalmations."
Her favorite article of clothing is this Toy Story shirt that her cousins gave her.