Monkey see…


My kids do.  

They are going through a phase of copying anything and everything.  For Rose, I believe this is developmentally appropriate, as she's learning a new language, and so there is a lot of repetition involved there.  She's coming along quite well on that front, to the point where her conversations actually involve a lot of familiar words- 'popcorn,' 'water,' 'macncheese,' 'wapful,' 'please,' and 'thankyou'.  And she has people's names down pretty well too.  

But now Dillon and Rose are getting into these expressive play/games that involve things like "camping" under the covers of my bed with the dogs, or building cities out of blocks or playing (a sort of sad game of) "catch" where no catching is actually taking place, it's more like they're playing fetch with each other.

Right now, they're sitting at the table with their hands over their (own) ears, singing "LA LA LA LA LA LA LA" as loud as they possibly can.  I am not sure what set that off, possibly my inadvertent substitution of 'kettle corn' instead of the midafternoon popcorn snack.   Why they do not make the box look ENTIRELY different than regular microwave popcorn, I have no idea.  I suppose I should have realized that something was amiss when my house started to smell like I was microwaving a glazed donut, but I just figured that at some point in recent history someone HAD, in fact, microwaved a glazed donut and some goo remained, leading to a peculiar smell coming from the popcorn.  I was thinking about other things at the time, looking through the mail, wondering where in my house I might have a stray diet coke stashed, etc., so it wasn't until I noticed Rose taking popcorn out of her mouth and throwing it to Dharma under the table and Dillon grimacing and saying "Is this KETTLE corn?" that I realized things were not as they should be.  So they started loudly demanding regular popcorn, and as I purchase popcorn in mass quantities I luckily had another box available (with extra butter or some such nonsense).  I left the kettle corn on the counter, as it doesn't mess much with the current aesthetic of garbage everywhere, and maybe Chuck will eat it when he gets home.  Although I like french fries dipped in hot fudge sundaes (and to quote Shakira, 'my hips don't lie') I hate kettle corn with a fiery passion that engulfs my soul. 

As I type I am coming to realize that someone used my computer with buttery fingers (not me) and turned my display brightness down to it's lowest level (my nose was almost touching my keyboard trying to get a good angle to see the display!)

But I have to say, regardless of the popcorn-fingers and volume-level involved with my children, I am particularly looking forward to the weekend with them…   

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