Sittin' Here, Restin' My Bones

Four months ago, taking the family out to a department store was a terrible idea.

Let me rephrase that. Four months ago, you would of had to be a masochist to want to have taken my family out to a department store. It hurt mostly because we were constantly trying to keep Ellie from terrorizing all of the patrons with her insistent whining and crying for milk, food, something on the shelf, to get down, to get up, to be held, and so on, and so on.

It is amazing what just a few months can do for a two year-old, as well as a paranoid parent. Today we went to three different store looking for a bookshelf for my office. The girls were great. Ellie, in particular, can now communicate beyond screaming and kicking, and she generally listens when we tell her that we are moving to another area. We don't have to keep her and all of her belongings in a cart, and we let her travel by foot most of the time.

Instead of demands for food and drink, she chatted and explained to us what she was seeing.

The highlight of the shopping adventure was when we were at Kohl's. She and I were the stragglers when she stopped, dead in her tracks, and stared at the two male mannequins displaying the preppy casual clothing that Kohl's had to offer. One was standing and staring off towards the jewelry, while the other was sitting on a stool, cross-legged.

She pointed to the sitting mannequin and informed me, what she thought he was doing.

"Going potty, Daddy."

"What?" I said to make sure my ears were working correctly.

"He go potty." she repeated.

"Very good, Ellie." I reinforced. "Hey Ab, did you hear El?"

She shared, again, her finding to Abbie, Emma, and the others in the general area.
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I found these little bits I meant to post back in September. Seems that I dunn fergot, so here is tonight's encore.

One Week

One night at dinner, where we serve as short-order cooks and the girls sit at the bar on their stools, Emma began a conversation.
"Daddy."
"Yes."
"Can I get a new poon?" (Notice the improved pronunciation)
"Why do you need a new spoon?" I ask, "You have one in your hand."
"Well, I used dis one for my pineapple, and I need a new one for my pasta."
"Just use the one that you have." I instructed.
"NOOOOOoooooooo. Dis one is all sdicky. I don't want it on my pasta." she hollered back at me.
"Just lick it clean and...."
"NOOOOOooooo. I need a new one!"
"Here you go, now eat your pasta."
"Dank you."
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The garage door opened, and my girls all enter the house from their long walk to the park.
"How was the park?" I ask.
"It was soooo far away!" Emma responds like an abused teenager. "I think I broke my muscle."
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Abbie, Ellie and I are in our backyard this Sunday morning. The neighbor and his little dog came over and were chatting with us. Upon his turn back home, he noticed his dog taking a crap.

He apologized for his dog, it wasn't a real big deal to us, but as the dog finished squatting, Ellie ran towards the small animal. She then extended her finger from her tiny little hand and poked the canine in his VERY rear end.