Her: Look Mummy, it’s a photograph of you!
Me: On the CD cover?
Her: There, there!
Me: That’s Julia Roberts. [Is it necessary to say that I do not in any way whatsoever resemble Julia Roberts? Also, please don’t despise us for having the CD of songs from “Mona Lisa Smile” ].
Me: What do you think of my new top?
Her: It’s not pretty.
Me: Why not?
Her: It’s got no sparkles. And it’s not pink.
Me: Hmm, but still.
Her (relentlessly): And it makes you look fat. [Is it necessary to say that I am sensitive to any criticism that may be made on this point, however ill-informed; please witness previous dialogue for an illustration of my daughter’s powers of observation].
It’s equally marvellous when a toddler starts commenting unfavourably on the number of “black” teeth (ie fillings) his mammy has (yes, it’s lots). At least tops can be changed, or sparkle added.
Kids eh? You give ’em the best years of your life and just when you’re squeezing back into your old clothes they say, ‘Mummy. Is there another baby in your tummy?’
I took my 4.5 years old son on a shopping spree with me on Saturday afternoon. Never again!
Every time I came out of the changing room he would either smile, giggle or make comments. I know he looks at me with the eyes of love and innocence but still…
Oooh – she’s good – “how to make Mummy change her top” – classic.
Brother Lawrence says
Mr. W must be relieved that you asked her rather than him.
Well what do you expect if it’s got no sparkles and it’s not pink? Perfectly reasonable criticisms if you ask me.
Aha, glad to be of entertainment. Snort.