I love having conversations with K. Up until a few months ago, our conversations consisted mostly of one-sided mommy-babble, but these days they've matured into a full-fledged two-way communication system. I love K's delightful sense of humour and her witty replies, and cherish the fact that our runs together have become our "chicks only chatting time".
K's latest "thing" is labelling everything that bores her to bits as being "old". For example:
K: Mommy, let's sing a song!
Mom: Okay, Bub, what do you want to sing? What abooooooout, uhmmm, Twinkle Twinkle?
K: No, Mom, Twinkle Twinkle is old.
Mom: Okay... Uhhhhm, what aboooooooout Bana ba sekolo (the Sesotho version of Frere Jacques)?
K (giggling): No, Mom, Bana ba sekolo is old!
And so we'll continue for the largest part of our run, until some blessed song in our repertoire is deemed worthy of being sung. Got to love it.
* * *
Something that I find "old" these days, a la K, is this whole coughing and sneezing situation going on in our home (and I'm sure that by this time you're finding it very "old" too). Yes, there was a brief, shining moment during which all four of us were more or less healthy again. But then Will decided that coughing up a storm each night is much more fun, and J Bear quickly followed suit. And so did our nanny. Sigh.
So no more Mr Nice Guy. From here on out, if you sneeze between these four walls, you will be issued with a safety mask. And if you cough, you will be nebulized, humidified and Vicks Vaporub'ed. Oh, and just for good measure, you will be provided with copious amounts of orange juice, honey and echinacea, whether you sneeze or cough or just come for a visit. So beware. Mama's on the war path.