My kids don’t spend much time or energy talking before they’re three, but once they start there’s plenty that cracks us up. With Zoë – her loudest language is really her style of dress…never less than three shades of pink when she’s styling herself and at least two or three pattern choices. Still, she’s had a few quotables that are approaching, if not rival, and Holdenism we’ve been blessed to hear.
"I am PinkCake Girl - I save da day."
Looking through the (ugh) princess book she checked out of the library, she says: "Mom, when I
drowe up I'n going to wread Rwiddle Mermaid."
Me: "It's a pretty anti-feminist piece Zoë. A girl gives up her voice for a pair of legs for a man she's never actually met and falls in love with him because he's good looking."
Holden: "And she left a pretty good life to do it."
Z: "But Mooooom, when I grow up I want to."
Me (caving): "OK, but just make sure you've read the 'Feminine Mystique' first. Deal?"
Z: "O-tay! Deal!"
And then we shook on it.
Quotes of the night from Zoë and we've only been at the hockey game for 5 minutes:
"Mom when I grow bigger I'm going to hockey."
Followed shortly after with "that's gotta hurt!"
“You do the honors.” Basically anytime she doesn’t want to put anything away or put on her own socks or shoes.
"Mom, I really want to get into geometry."
After hearing her bed will need to be made AND her teeth brushed before she can watch Netflix: “I’m doomed!”