I guess technically it isn’t summertime yet, but it’s summertime. The bar next door is getting louder, the neighbors are getting louder, it’s getting hot up in here, and boy can we be cranky about it.
We just got back from Disneyworld and visiting my grandparents, your great-grandparents, in Florida. We had a blast. You had a bigger blast than I did. It’s amazing what a difference it makes, going to Disney as an adult – it’s so much more fun when you are the child. But man, you thought it was magical. You loved the characters more than anything. You loved seeing the princesses the most – Cinderella, Belle, Sleeping Beauty, and Ariel. You knew those were real princesses that were just visiting from their castles, just taking a break from their lives with their princes.
And I think to myself, dang. Now what am I going to bribe you with?
My dear, your attitude has grown fangs and bitten us lately. You pout and sass better (or worse) than any child I’ve ever known. I’m very concerned about this newest thing going on here, you saying to people “You have a fat belly!” Well, where did you hear of that expression? Because as a fat girl myself, I have been more than careful, I’ve been SURE that I have never said anything derogatory about fatness or fat people around you, because I know that you don’t understand sometimes the depth of what you are saying, and yes, other people know that too, but still. Calling someone fat is just BAD!
A month or so ago we were at Norm’s Diner having dinner and this old taxi driver came in. I remember that particular cab driver from when I worked at Norm’s five years ago, before I got pregnant with you – he was a nasty old fart back then, too and I swear he’s gotten worse with age. Anyway, the guy has these really terrible growths on his head and face. Like, really bad, big dark growths. See, I can’t even call them moles. They were mountains! GROWTHS! So he sits down at the counter and I think to myself “Oh, shit. Elise is not going to be able to just look past this and she’s going to say something nutso.” You did not disappoint.
You walked over to the guy, staring at his head with this hilarious open mouthed, squinty-eyed and horrified expression on your face and you POINTED at his head and said “YOU’RE DIRTY!”
I was struck dumb.
I could not, COULD NOT stop myself from laughing just as I was screeching “ELISE, GET OVER HERE!”
And the man grumbled at you, I have no idea what he said but I heard him grumbling and mumbling, and I made you sit with me for the rest of the time he was there while you still couldn’t stop asking what was wrong with his face.
It was terrible. It was mortifying. It was hilarious. It was totally you.