semi-Precious Roements

I used to often post the funny or touching things Monroe said under a heading "Precious Roements." Well, we still LOVE listening to the wacky things she says, but lately she's been more hilarious than precious. So I am not sure what to call these musings. But here you go.

Friday, Feb. 4 -- at the dinner table.

Monroe: Do you know what a buttcrash is?
Me: What?
Monroe: A buttcrash.
Me: A butt-crack?
Monroe: NO! A butcrash
Me: What is buttcrash?
Monroe: When you are carrying too much stuff, like way too much stuff, and the top thing falls off and goes BANG!

Besides thinking "where on Earth does she get this stuff?" I found myself musing that the term does fill a bit of an etymological hole in our language--what DO you call it when the very top thing of a too-tall stack of stuff you've tried to carry falls to the floor? Don't you think we kind of need a word for that? Buttcrash feels right.

Saturday, Feb. 5 -- right before bedtime

Me [to Eben]: I know it's not a bath night, but we need to do a pretty good wash-up on her hands and face, they're grimy.
Monroe [from the other room]: We can just deal with that tomorrow.

Like mother like daughter!

precious ROEments

Yesterday in the car I was catching up on some news and we heard audio from the white house on NPR. In the hopes of making it seem interesting (to forestall the inevitable moment when Monroe would demand I blast the Fraggle Rock theme song) I informed her that we were listening to the president, Barack Obama. She perked up at that because she's always interested in anyone she's familiar with.

Monroe: "I remember! Obama is the president. He has a white face, and a blue face, and a red face!"

Mommy: "Uh....."

*remembers*

Mommy: "Uh, I think you are remembering his posters. But in real life he just has a regular face like everybody else. His face is just brown."

precious ROEments

As we were walking across a sleepy Montana Avenue this morning on some errands, I told Monroe, "let's wave while we are in the cross walk so everyone sees us." She said, "Are you talking about Jesus?" because she misheard me. This led to a little conversation about Jesus, who--according to Monroe--"lives at church."

We talked about how we remember all the parts of Jesus' life, and that soon at Christmas we'll be talking about the story of when he was born. Monroe then proclaimed that "Baby Jesus will be at Grandma Nikki's house!"

I think she put this gem together because she's been told several times that we'll visit her grandma in St. Louis this year for Christmas. So you'd better get to work on that Grandma Nikki--apparently gingerbread houses and twinkle lights won't do, you are now expected to produce the baby Jesus as well. Tee Hee.

Precious Roements

Last night at the dinner table, Monroe threw her arms wide--as if to
draw in the whole family--and proclaimed, "I love each other!"

Sent from my iPhone

precious ROEments

While Monroe was unwrapping her presents this morning, Aunt Naomi honored the time-worn tradition that during any gathering with presents, someone of the party must take up a bow and affix it to his or her head.

Scene: Aunt Naomi has a GIANT paper bow on her head. Monroe's attention is caught at once and she runs around the coffee table to get a better look.

Monroe: OOOoooooooh. You're smart!

precious ROEments

For her birthday, Monroe received a fun little bathtub boat from her great grandmother (my mom's mom) Granny. One of the parts to it was a walrus. She loves the walrus, but keeps calling him a hippo. This confusion is understandable given that they are each big blubbery water-dwelling mammals that have giant teeth. I tried to clue Monroe in to some key points in the hippo/walrus distinction, which led to another great precious Roement.















Scene: Monroe is laying on the bed to be diapered and dressed just after her bath. Mommy and Daddy stand over her to chat.

Me (mommy): Monroe, this is a walrus. See, walruses and hippos have similar heads, but really different bodies. A hippo's body has four feet and a tiny little tail, a lot like a pig. But a walrus' body has a big giant fishy tail and tiny fins, a lot like a mermaid.

Monroe: It's a hippo.

Eben: No Monroe, see the fins? (Eben puts his hands up by his shoulders and flaps the, simulating little walrus fins.)

Monroe: (face lighting up) It can FLY?!?

Eben: (laughing) No, no, it doesn't have wings (uses big, full arm flaps to show 'wings.') It has little fins (again, flaps just his hands, which are tucked up by his shoulders.)

Monroe: (as if striking a bargain at a flea market) It can fly a little bit?

Mommy & Daddy dissolve into laughter at the image of a blubbery walrus flapping its stunted fins enough to get it a foot or two off the ground at a time.

precious ROEments

(Fair warning, this is a poop story.)

Scene: Today was a very busy day in the diaper department--it was as if she was saving all her "material" for when Dada could be home to change her diaper (as it should be.) This evening after dinner Dada changed the fullest diaper in recent history.

Mama: (looking on in amazement) Woah. That is epic!

Monroe: It's not epic. (Mama & Dada laugh)

Monroe: It's not epic, it's doo doo.

precious ROEments

Scene: I creep up on Monroe as she is playing her "Little Kitchen"--a pink plastic affair that Aunt Naomi rescued from an alley way (and thoroughly disinfected) which now resides in my dining room. As I approach, she is methodically moving all her kitchen stuff from the right side of the stove to the counter in the back.

Monroe: ...you go here (moving a pot) ...you go here (moving a pan) ...you go here (moving the last spoon).

Monroe: (Now putting her biggest pot on the little blue plastic burner and manipulating the grey plastic knob) I turn up the heat! ... stir and stir and stir.

Someone has clearly been paying very close attention.

precious ROEments

Scene: Me and Monroe, sitting side-by-side on the couch "chatting" while eating an afterschool snack of red grapes. Monroe loves to be asked a series of related questions, so I was going over people's names with her.

Me: What is your dada's name?

Monroe: Eben

Me: And what is your name, kid?

Monroe: Monroe!!

Me:And what is your mama's name?

Monroe: Family

She is currently pretty confused here--we tell her stuff about our "family" all the time and somehow she has gotten it into her head that "family" is my name.

Me: No, your mommy's name is Sunshine! We're all a family together, we're all called the Cook family. Mommy, daddy, and Monroe.

Me:What is your Aunt's name?

I was wondering which Aunt she'd mention--Naomi and Sara are current favorites.

Monroe: *shouts* Aunt Naomi!

Me: And what is your Uncle's name?

Again, I was wondering whether she'd go for Naomi's husband, Uncle Mike, or for her very memorable Uncle Adam we'd recently seen in a photo.

Monroe: Uncle Travmat.

Me: What?

Monroe: Fraggle Rock! Uncle Travamat.

See exhibit A, Gobo's uncle Traveling Matt, a great character from Fraggle Rock (her current favorite show.)

precious ROEments

Scene: Momma getting ready for work at the big mirror in mommy & daddy's bathroom. In the middle of using the curling iron with the pitter-patter of cute feet announces a visitor.

Monroe: What you doing Mama?

Me: Fixing my hair.

Monroe: (smiling, pointing at my hair.) Mommy hair is broke!

precious ROEments

This is my new feature, the verbal-description based parallel to "daily cute." Because we really are entering the "kids say the darnedest things" phase of this party!

(new babysitter) Tasha: What color shirt am I wearing?

Monroe: Pink

Tasha: And what is your favorite color?

Monroe: Polka Dot