Here Kitty Kitty

When I was a kid, so the story goes, I would pretend to be a cat, and my mom would put bowls of milk on the floor for me. I would only come to "Kitty." At least, this is what my babysitter, who wrote a paper about me for her high school child development class, claims. I do not remember this. I think it's very neat that my mom played along with the bowls of milk and all. And mom, you'll be happy to hear that the practice is alive and well at my house, only I have both a cat (Lola) and a dog (Elizabeth).

Reminder to self, and to anyone else who would like to learn from my mis-steps: When attempting to settle your squirmy children down for bed, best not to give in to the temptation to be silly, as I did this evening. What possessed me? I do not know. For some unfathomable reason, when I was getting the boys to brush their teeth, I decided to do so in a French accent: "Take your teeeeth into zee bathroom, and brush them." Which then, getting sillier, became, "Get your butt into zee bathroom and brush your teeeeeth." Lots of giggles. Then I overdid it: "Which is not the same thing as getting your teeeeth into zee bathroom and brushing your butt!" Why did I say this? Well, probably because it's fun to make them laugh. What price did I pay? Oh, only about 20 extra minutes of extreme hilarity, hyperactivity, REPETITION of the inane thing I had just said, and a kajillion requests to "say that again, Mom!" In other words, a steep one, at the end of a long day when all I want to do is have a beer, make a sweet pepper and feta cheese omelet for Rick and me to eat, and enjoy some non-kid quiet time.

Oh well. They loved it. Bonding with my children through potty talk: I hardly recognize myself!