***
Sometime in the middle of the night (either before she fell asleep, or as soon as she woke up) Zu took off her pajamas. She wandered out into the living room at 6:50 this morning, looked up at me and said, “Daddy, I’m cold.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have taken your jammies off, sweetie.” I reply.
“But, Daddy… I’m COLD.” She might not know what indignant means, but she pulls it off with the greatest ease.
***
This is a common conversation in our car while driving around town.
“Daddy, I want to talk to you.” Says Zu.
“OK.”
“Can I talk to you, Daddy?”
“Yes.”
“Can I talk to you, Daddy?”
“Yes.”
“Can I talk to you, Daddy?”
“Yes.”
“Can I talk to you, Daddy?”
“What do you want to talk to me about?”
“I forgot.”
***
Zu is a social child. She doesn’t like (or know how) to play alone. She has always had other kids to play with. But now that is not always the case, and she does not enjoy it.
“Where’s Christian?” Zu asks.
“He’s at the store with Momma.”
“Where’s Mommy?”
“She’s at the store.”
“Where’s Nanna?”
“She’s at work.”
“Where’s JJ?”
“He’s taking a nap.”
“Where’s Christian?”
It is called short term memory loss. I prefer to think of it as circular logic.
***
Zu has stock answers for certain types of questions.
What shape is this? It is usually “Triangle!” (However, she is getting better with shapes; ‘triangle’ has become a default retort for shapes when she can’t think of the correct response.)
What letter (or number) is this? It is always “S!”
What color is this? Without hesitation, Zu always states “Red!”
But questions that begin with “Who is” are fun. Her immediate reply is “I am!” She says it with such zeal that you believe for a brief moment that Zu is the true center of the universe. This creates some interesting dialog.
“Who is the cutest girl in the whole wide world?”
“I am!”
“Who is Daddy’s favorite little girl?”
“I am!”
“Who is the best Daddy ever?”
“I am!”
“Nooooo… You’re not a daddy.”
Lines of worry and bewilderment cross her forehead with a glimmer of sadness in her eyes. “I’m not?”
“No, I’m the Daddy.”
“You are!” She smiles again.
“Who is an epileptic elephant?”
“I am!”
“Nooooo…”
“Who is my little Zu Bear?”
“I am!”
“Who is Jon Stewart?”
“I am!”
“Nooooo…”
This exchange could go on for as long as you desire. The question doesn’t matter. The answer is constant. Narcissism is hilarious in an egocentric two year old.
***
I was rocking a full beard for a while – partially due to laziness, partially because we ran out of shaving cream and kept forgetting to buy more. When new shaving cream was purchased, I started to trim the beard down to a goatee. Zu came into the bathroom so Bekah could brush her hair.
Zu watched me and my razor – face covered with white foam.
“What’s wrong with Daddy?” She asked.
“He’s shaving.” Bekah replied.
“What happened to Daddy?”
Bekah supplied the same answer and Zu repeated her question a few times (she craves repetition). Bekah decided to use the opportunity to practice recognizing emotions. (We’re trying to get her to distinguish various emotions by making faces to see if she can identify when someone is happy, sad, mad, surprised, etc.)
“What kind of face does Daddy have?” Bekah asked.
Zu watched my razor cut a swath through my disappearing beard.
“That’s his seerwious face.”
Apparently, I have a serious expression on my face when I shave.
***
Zu knows coffee. And lemons. We were playing with some vocabulary flashcards last night. Word after word, Zu concentrated on the picture, mining the depths of her memory. She often recited the correct word, but none with the zest as when she saw coffee.
As soon as the she was presented the picture of a steaming teacup next to a caterer style coffee pot, she shouted out the corresponding word: “COFFEE!”
Later, when she viewed the picture of a mug (and the word was ‘mug’), Zu repeated her previous answer: “COFFEE!” I blame my wife for Zu’s familiarity with that rich, dark, hot beverage.
One of the flash cards displayed a variety of produce: bananas, strawberries, oranges, grapes… as soon as she saw it, Zu answered “Fruits.” She gave the same answer when the picture was a variety of vegetables; for now I am content to let her believe that carrots, peas, and cucumbers are fruit.
Subsequent flash cards displayed the individual fruits. The first one was a kiwi sliced in half.
“What is this?” I asked.
Zu thought and cocked her head to the side like a confused puppy. “What is it Daddy?”
“It’s Daddy’s favorite fruit.”
She looked at me then back at the picture but could not think of the fruit’s identity. “What is it Daddy?”
“It’s a kiwi.”
“Kiwi?”
“Yes.”
“A kiwi is your favorite fruit.”
“It is.”
X is your favorite fruit became a snowclone, as Zu substituted x for every fruit.
“A grape is your favorite fruit.”
“A strawberry is your favorite fruit.”
“A yemon is your favorite fruit.” (Zu pronounces all of her L’s as a Y)
When it came to the lemon, I added a brief caveat.
“Lemon is not my favorite fruit, but it is a fruit.”
“Do you eat yemons?” she asked.
“You have had lemons.” It is true. On a few occasions, we gave her lemons to taste. The resulting expressions of shock and disgust is such a satisfying experience. It’s even more gratifying if they forget the sour flavor and go back for a second bite. I highly recommend all parents of young children try this. (Unless, if your kids have a citrus allergy… then don’t do it.)
“I had yemons?” Zu pondered that fact for a while then gave me a solemn look with a stern lecture, “Icky, Daddy.”
***
Speaking of mispronouncing L’s as Y’s. We hear this consonant swap as often as people make Twilight jokes. She is a chatterbox. Honestly, I am not certain if she knows how to stop taking. However, this slip in her speech is the cause of one of her most endearing phrases: “I yove you.”
Awww! Seriously dying of cuteness right now. Seriously. *
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