Home To Bears

Terrible Twos Day

Jan 28, 2012

I’m disassembling the Monster’s crib. It has been home to bears, bunnies, dolls, unfolded laundry, and, lately, a guitar and a mandolin, but never the Monster.

This is not precisely true. When she was very, very little and unable to climb out, I would sometimes put her in there so I could go in the bathroom to pee and listen to her scream. Also, I would, from time to time, put her in there and play the guitar and sing to her, while she stood, clinging to the bars, and chewed on the top rail. I would also try to put her in the crib on those rare occasions that she fell asleep when I had enough energy to think of getting something else done, but about half the time she would wake up screaming the moment I let go of her, and the other half she would wake up screaming half an hour later. As a person who does not care overmuch for screaming, I generally preferred to let her snooze next to me, or on me, although this limited my activities.

This is where ‘normally’ you would get a quaint little picture of a crib full of teddy bears, bunnies, guitars and what-not, but frankly the rough sketch was boring, and I don’t have time to come up with something better because I have been making Daffodil a crown out of craft-foam. Although it as yet unpainted and looks like something out of a bad science-fiction movie, she says it is “good for playing Queen of the Nile.” This gives me a twinge and makes me feel I have short-changed her education, but then I think, “Perhaps I didn’t hear that right and she means ‘Queen of Denial’.” She has no way of knowing this was my favorite joke when Discordia, in her Terrible Twos, restricted her vocabulary to a single word (Me: “Are you the Queen of Denial?” Discordia: “NO!” Me: “Ahahahaha!” It never got old.)

Anyway, no picture. How’s that for denial?


Meet Discordia

Discordia came home from college to visit today.

Discordia: “Go wash your hands! You didn’t wash your hands!”

Daffodil: “Aaugh! Everybody is bossing me around! I don’t want to be bossed around!”

Discordia: “I’m older. That’s my job.”

Daffodil: “It’s your job to boss me around?”

Discordia: “Yes.”

Daffodil: “So I should listen to you?”

Discordia: “Yes.”

Daffodil: “All the time?”

Discordia: “Yes. If you listen to me all the time, I won’t have to boss you around.”

Daffodil: “Aaugh!”