Five and a half years ago, I gave birth to a beautiful little girl. She cooed, cuddled, and exuded a sweet demeanor.
And then, she learned how to talk. Her first word was, “Mommy,” which was the high point of her vocabulary skills. Eventually she moved on to full sentences, and all hell broke loose.
Highlights…
The Girl (to my mom): I know why your cat died.
My Mom: You do?
The Girl: Because he was old. Just like you.
(Playing Let it Goat, a game like Flappy Bird)
The Girl: Ow! My kidney!
The Girl, a few minutes later: Mommy? What’s a kidney?
(During a discussion on the proper terms for anatomy)
The Girl: So, what’s a “fur-china” again?
Me: Why is there yogurt all over the table?
The Girl: It wasn’t my fault! I jumped off the table and the yogurt leapt out!
Me: I love you, baby girl.
The Girl: I know.
The Girl: I am being honest; I peed in my pull-up.
Me: so, where is it?
The Girl: behind the toilet.
(Told she needs to go home after a sleepover)
The Girl: No! I don’t want to leave! We’re watching Barbie Fairytopia!
Me: I’m taking you shopping.
The Girl: (stops crying) Oh! I love shopping!
So, there you have it. I am blessed with a daughter who is wily, obnoxious, smart, beautiful, willful, stubborn…. you get it. She’s awesome and I have no idea how to raise her.
Pray for me.
There will be a second installment about my son, who is hilarious for different reasons.
Ponies and Martinis 
Hoo boy do I know how this is. My daughter and I had exchanges like this:
Me: Go wash your hands.
Her: NO
Me: Get up and go wash your hands!
Her: ONLY ONE.
SRSLY?
And then there was the time her birthday present from her grandparents was delayed, but we didn’t know that, and it looked like all they’d sent was a card (no money in it).
Her: Is this all they sent?
Me: It appears to be.
Her: Not much of a present, is it?
(She was only 5, but we did give her a little lecture on gratitude, etc).
So I’ll pray for you if you pray for me! Because from the sound of it, we’re both going to need all the prayers we can get!
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Oh my! We are definitely in a lot of trouble. I’ll start praying for you tonight 🙂
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I am praying for you. My daughter is 19 and I can tell you they just get funnier.
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I’m glad the teen years are funny. I expected to live through that time fighting grey hairs and medicating with wine. I’d much prefer laughter. And chocolate ice cream.
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My daughter was a great teen. It’s my son (currently 10) who’s going to earn me the grey hairs, I think.
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The longer I live the more I am convinced they raise themselves. I provide meals, comic relief, and band-aids.
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They better be band-aids with the proper cartoon figures on them, or you will be in trouble!
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Oh, brilliant! She’s just saucy enough that I don’t worry about her future one bit, although the next fifteen years are bound to be pretty hairy for you. Ha!
My five-year old daughter at dinner last month: Mama, I hope you don’t get F-A-T.
Me: Excuse me? What?
Seven-year-old brother: She said she hopes you don’t get fat, Mom.
Me: Oh, okay. Thanks for clearing that up for me. Because I KNOW HOW TO SPELL FAT!
Which just goes to show, mine are ALL conspiring against me.
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What is it with 5 and fat? My daughter has started calling people fat, even when they are string beans! It’s like they just want to mess with us. Darn them.
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Oh when they’re sobbing their eyes out and then suddenly stop like “ain’t no thing but a chicken wing” – I HATE THAT!
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I know! And I get sucked in. Every. Time.
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Too cute. Love when she asks what a kidney is after complaining about it 😉
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It sounds to me like many years ahead of laughter and self-medicating with wine and chocolate 🙂
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Oh boy! My daughter and yours should be friends. And how did I miss the fact you have a son too? Answer me! Just kidding.
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AH, haha, she sounds delightful!
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She is… Something else 🙂
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