On Arguing, How to Do It Without Parental Intervention

Here's an argument overheard today: 

Ingrid: Lewis is cute and funny.

Lewis: No, I'm not.

Ingrid: Yes, you're cute.

Lewis: NO.

Nelly: And funny, too.

Lewis, now seriously annoyed: NO I AM NOT CUTE AND FUNNY!

Ingrid: Yes, you are.

Lewis: That's harassing me, Ingrid.  Mom said not to harass me.

Nelly: Are you a man or a mouse, Lewis?  

Lewis: That's harassing, too, Nelly.  

Lewis, suddenly getting his feet under him: Well, I think you're cute and funny.

Ingrid: No, you're cute and funny.

Lewis: YOU are.  

Ingrid: Cute and funny, cute and funny!

***

The reason this goes on for so long without interruption is because the parents, who might otherwise intervene, are actually in stitches on the floor.  

Another Momo-ism

Frequently around our house you may hear a very small voice bellowing "HEE-Ho!"  This means "Heave-Ho," and signals a situation in which Momo is trying to pull something out of, off of, or out from under something else, including herself.  

Mommy Have Bigger, Bigger

When a young man of five climbs into bed, his mind turns to thoughts of...France?

Lewis: Mom, what was that...um...what was I thinking of...oh! Yeah! I know.  It was France.  Is France a name?

Me: It's a name of a country.

Lewis: I thought it was a name of a city.  Is there a city in France?

Me: There's a city named Paris, is that the one you're thinking of?

Lewis: Paris.  Yes, that's the one.  There's a picture in that little thing of a strange tower...

Me: That's the Eiffel tower.

Lewis: I wonder what the Rifle tower is for?

Me: Eiffel tower?  I think it is just a work of art.

Lewis: Do they have cars in France?

Me: Yes.

Lewis: Do they have police cars?

Me: Yes.  Every place has police cars.

Lewis: I wonder if they have balloons?

Me: Balloons? What kind of balloons?

Lewis, gesturing at Nelly's birthday balloon:  That kind.  Do they eat strange things in France?

Me, wishing I could get away: Maybe sometimes.

Lewis, inadvertently revealing the background for this line of questioning: Do they eat those things Mr. Bean thought were yucky?

Me: You mean oysters?

Lewis: Oysters!  I'm never going to eat oysters!

****

Nearly the whole time our conversation was proceeding along these lines, there was a little musical backdrop from Mona's crib:  Momma!  My Puppy!  My puppy!  Mooooooommmy!! My puppy!  Mom, my puppy! My puppy, Momma!

****

Speaking of Mona, she has a number of characteristic little sayings these days.  When picked up against her will she shouts, "Lebbe down! Lebbe DOWN!"  

If asked about some quality she possesses ("Are you silly?" for instance)  she might say a little hopefully as though she only halfway expects you to understand:  "I don't have silly."  

When Mommy's tummy comes to her attention she gets a very knowing sort of a look on her face, for a two-year-old, and pats it affectionately and says, "Mommy have bigger, bigger." 

Dressup

The Littlest Two

When something goes missing, it pays to ask the littlest ones.  I have an ill-considered habit of popping out the contacts, of an evening, and then wondering where my glasses might be.  Of course, without the contacts in it's much harder to find anything, let alone a couple of pieces of glass stuck together with a little silver-colored metal.  Which is why after a bootless search in all the usual places I finally resorted to the sleeping girls.  Inge is the family Holder of Knowledge, Rememberer of Useless Details, and most likely to know Where Something Is.  The other kids could be looking at it dead ahead and still tell you with a straight face that they have no idea where it's got to.  I tapped Inge on the head, but it was Nelly who sprang straight up in the air and shouted, "OH!  I know where they are!"  She popped out with far too much alacrity for ten o'clock at night, and started rummaging under her bed.  To be perfectly accurate, they were on the bed, not under it; but since they looked like they had been under it during the course of the day, I assume she knew what she was talking about.  

***

Mona was tripping lightly through the kitchen tonight when she espied something attractive on the floor.  With a cry of delight, she pounced (like an osprey on a fish), drew forth something from under the stove (!), and popped it in her mouth.  With a cry of equal intensity, I pounced on her and removed the dusty item.  It was a raisin.  

Sibling Rivalry, Or, Where All the Keys Have Been Going

Just overheard, from the Playmobile station in the living room.  I'm thinking the foregoing conversation must have been equally interesting.  

Lewis: That's rude!  I'm your father!

Nelly, immovably: "No, I'm your mother."  And for a little extra clincher, she added: "I have a key in my purse.  If you have a key in your purse, you're a mother." 

But, as luck would have it, Lewis had a key in his bag, too; so no satisfactory conclusion was reached.