Lunch time after school. Little Libra is eating the last of her lumpia and rice. When she’s done chewing she says:
“Guess what Mommy.”
“When it’s more than one thing, we add an S at the end. Like thingssssss”
Like all her conversation starters, I wonder what triggered this random tidbit but roll with it.
“Very good. What else?”
“Toys, dolls, plates, forks, spoons, chairs, tables…”
“Ok, time for your medicine.”
“Medicines, ears, eyes, arms, shoulders, elbows, hands, legs…” touching each part.
I’m so glad she has just one mouth!
Bath time. Little Libra’s hair spiked up with shampoo. Haggard mommy scrubbing her down, fantasizing about the joy of finally lying down after a long day when she says:
“I want to clean my foots.”
I smile. “You mean your feet?”
“No Mommy,” as if I didn’t hear her correctly. “My foots,” clarifying her point by raising her right foot and then the left with a look that says Don’t you remember what I told you at lunch?
She furrows her eyebrows. “Why are you laughing Mom?”
I can’t breathe. I don’t know what’s funnier, her grammar mistake or the self-righteous tone. Do all four year olds act like know-it-alls?
Then she starts laughing with me, those almond eyes bright, those ruby lips framing her pearly whites. That underbite I secretly abhor disappears with her wide smile.
Between giggles and breaths, she repeats, “Why are you laughing?” in the same way that she has asked why I’m wearing jeans if I’m going to the gym. You’re not making any sense!
“When we talk about one of these,” pointing to her right foot, “we call it foot. But if we talk about two of these, we call them feet.”
“Oh sorry, I want to clean my own feets.”
I lose my balance and am completely covered in water.