Me: Can you brush Ella’s hair please?
Dan: She’s gonna cry if I do it.
Me: She cries when I do it too, you just have to be extra gentle and fast
Dan: Heavy sigh
Me: Just do it
Dan: Where’s the hair brush?
Me: In the medicine cabinet
Dan: Which brush?
Me: The black one
Dan: Which black one?
Me: It doesn’t matter really
Dan: Where are her hair ties?
Me: In her jewelry box
Dan: Where’s her jewelry box?
Me: UP YOUR BUTT! Gah - never mind!
Unfortunately sometimes Ella takes things quite literally and so I had to cut the favored phrase from my lexicon, especially after this last exchange. I was working very hard on a painting trying to use up the last of the brown before it dried (I was working in acrylics) and trying to cover a mistake before it was all too permanent. Dan arrived home from work and asked “What’s for dinner?” to which I shot at him “Your butt! I don’t know give me a minute!” During the next few minutes Ella had a little break down. When I finished repairing my paint crisis and sat down with her, I asked her what was wrong. Her sobby reply, “I don’t want to eat booty, it’s gross.” Between stifled laughs Dan and I explained that I was kidding and I vowed to be more mindful of what I say - to EVERYONE in my family.
The song Ella sang today during lunch:
“My fairy lady locked me up, lock me up, lock me up, on the bridge, we are fall down”.