First line of text goes here…
…second line goes here.
First line: “I wish I’d asked for blueberries… I want blueberries!!!”
Second line: “Did you hear me? I want blueberries!!… Man, that so did not work… strawberries it is…”
First line: I’m tooo tired to [yawn] eat breakfast.
Second line: See, Baba? Toooooo tired! And cranky.
First line: “Need to scream…”
Second line: “…But not in public.”
The trouble with being 3.
Line 1: hmph . . . I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!
Line 2: DON’T YOU KNOW WHAT I NEED RIGHT NOW? CAN’T YOU READ MY MIND YET? GIVE ME A BREAK ALREADY! . . . . hmph
Ok, so I can’t caption it, but boy CAN I RELATE!!
Just curious, did a switch flip when she turned 3? Our son is finally coming down off the wall now that he is 3.5. Apparently, this normally happens at the half-year, but we were lucky enough to experience it early!
First line: I wish that coffee would hurry up. . . .
Second line: What’s with the friggin camera, Baba? Always, that friggin’ camera!
Title: The Plan
Line 1: Hmm. I wonder where the flashy thing is. BABA GET THE CAMERA!
Line 2: Hey you got it! That really wasn’t as fun as I thought.
Jeez this is fun! Especially since I was as stumped as MaMaMia. Also since I kept having to squelch the impulse to convey that in reality, she was clearing a plugged ear, and wasn’t unhappy at all (see?), and I have some misgivings about making any pictures of her or any kid in the midst of unhappiness, etc. etc. See. Not funny at all; none of that.
Oh, and MaMaMia: her switch flipped somewheres around 2.25 yrs. Thereabouts. Sigh. Like living with a schitzophrenic obsessive-compulsive (some days), and a gossamer-winged emissary from our own lost imaginations (other days). Heather Armstrong’s most recent monthly paean to her daughter says it so nicely:
So youâ€™re polite and friendly, and yet stubborn and unrelentingly difficult, this explosive combination that wears us out and makes us pull our hair. You are a fire we spend our day containing, and sometimes when we collapse on the floor next to the bed at night because we didnâ€™t have the energy to walk that extra foot, we think, okay, tomorrow weâ€™re going to figure this out, and then we giggle because we know that you will not be solved by a simple Google search….
1. Hello! Hello! Room Service! I did NOT order oatmeal! No no no! Creme Brulee!
2. Get that @$#!!&% camera off me! Bodyguard, clear out the paparazzi already!
OMG, my first thought was “she’s having a teeny person’s hotflash! Watch out!”
First line : The service here is awful…Waiter!!!
Second Line : There are strawberries in my cereal!!!…I am never eating here again.
I don’t have a caption, but I swear she’s singing along to a Pixies song on her imaginary iPod. soft LOUD soft, aaaaaand brood.
I have a little video on my camera that looks strikingly similar to this scene. From when my older son was about 3 and a half. In his case, the problem was maple syrup having had soaked into his waffle, rendering it less… syrupy to the naked eye. The demands for more maple syrup, exclamations of not wanting it “this way”, calm discussions of the porous nature of waffles and many bread products in general, and the importance of attending to ones breakfast in an expedient manner should their specifications be so exacting, all captured on film to the tune of a screaming toddler.
So, I would guess:
“I told you not to mix the strawberries!” (Or, to mix the strawberries!) (Or, leave the spoon out of the bowl!)
Followed by: Extreme unspeakable outrage to be captured on film. Something like, “I don’t want to say cheese!”
Terrible 2’s, they all say. 2 is a piece of cake. A 3 year old, quite a different beast altogether. She’s adorable though, even whilst infuriated.
1. Who lives in a pineapple under the sea. SpongeBob SquarePants! Absorbent and yellow and porous is he! SpongeBob SquarePants! Ugh. Help me! I can’t get this song out of my head!
2. Get out, I say! Leave me alone so I can eat … If nautical nonsense be something you wish. SpongeBob SquarePants! Then drop on the deck and flop like a fish! SpongeBob SquarePants!
You must be logged in to post a comment.
This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.