(continued from yesterday’s post… still at the mall.)
She: Mummy? I need to tell you something else. It’s kinda bad. *looks at me with solemn brown eyes and then smirks*
Me: *looks to the heavens* Oh my lord, child, what is it?
She: Well… the other day? When I was at Jed’s house for dinner? Well… I ate with my mouth open.
At first she looks SO guilty, but this expression quickly morphs into smiling. I bite my lip. This is the kinda bad thing she has to tell me? Oh. My. Days.
Me: *leans in with mock shock* Ava Scarlett!!? *clutches pearls*
She: *slightly pained* I knoooow! But, it’s just that… that day? *cocks head and gestures with open hand* I was really tiiiiiired, *cocks head the other way* and Jed was really crankeeeee, and I wanted to lie doooown, and just. wasn’t. feeling. so. good anymore. Because I was aaaaall… bloppy.”
Me: Bloppy?
She: Yes. *blinks*
Me: What is bloppy?
She: *shrugs shoulders* You know. Bloppy. *blink blink*
I wonder if she means blah-py, as in, to have the blahs… Regardless, it’s not a word , and it’s clearly made up, but I refrain from saying so because I’m curious as hell.
Me: Wait. Show me bloppy, please?
She gets off her chair and stands in front of me, then sags at the middle, bent almost in half, and mugs the saddest sad panda face you’ve ever seen, replete with sullen brows and the corners of her mouth turned down. She shrugs her shoulders up and down with each step as she walks in a small circle, demonstrating. The ladies at the table next to us are killing themselves laughing at her insane cuteness.
I almost pee my pants.
Me: Wow. Bloppy is bad, I guess. *chews bottom lip*
She: *corrects me* It’s kind of saaaad.
Me: I should say! But, *taps hand* what does this have to do with you chewing with your mouth open, at your friend’s house, when you know better than that, hmmmm?
She: Well, I was all bloppy… so I was just like this. *demonstrates with mouthful of pizza, nearly falling out of her gaping gob*
The ladies next to us can’t take their eyes off her, and this scene just went from funny to hilarious. We exchange glances, and the look on one lady’s face is saying
good luck, sistah. I hand the child another napkin, shaking my head. She is from another planet.
Me: *bites top lip* Sweets? Even when you’re tired, you need to behave yourself the way you know you’re supposed to. *nods* Okay?
She: I know.
Me: But thanks for telling me. That’s honest of you. I like that. *smiles* It’s important to tell the truth about things.
She: Yeah, because I know you need to keep an eye on me.
The ladies next to us are dabbing their eyes from tears of laughter, which of course is infectious, and I need to put my own napkin in front of my face so I can chortle to myself behind it.
One lady leaned over and asked, “What was for dinner at your friend’s house?”
“Chicken,” she replied flatly. And the ladies doubled over laughing anew. She looked at me and said, “What? It’s important to tell the truth about things!”
She is five. She still pronounces it like “truuf”.
Me: It is important. And you’re a good girl. *pats her arm*
She: I know. *pats me back* You don’t have to worry about me.
Aaaaand, scene.
I guess my work is done here. *yawns and stretches* Let’s get some beers.
So, do your kids confess all their things to you, too?!
Sometimes, you know you are having the second last scoop of your favourite icecream flavour that has been discontinued. For ever.
Delicious. Heart-breakingly finite.
I can’t get enough of holding my youngest soft feet in my hands. She’s just six now and I could hold those feet forever but every week they grow that little smidge bigger.
Savour it.
i
Enjoy it while you can! My son used to tell me everything. Every detail. I would help him sort through it all and we would laugh and think and discuss. Alas, this is no more. Nor should it be at nearly 14. But still…I miss it.