Boa constrictor

Indigo: I want a snake.

Me: . . .

I: I want a trained boa constrictor.

Me: Trained? Trained to do what?

Indigo: Um . . . Not constrict me.


What animal are you?

The kids on the movie screen were being asked: “What animals are your family members like?” I asked Mookie what animal I was and she instantly answered, “You’re a giraffe.”

“Really? Why?”

“I’ve always thought of you as a giraffe,” she said. I have to say this was a surprise. I do not think of myself as remotely giraffelike.

“But in what way am I like a giraffe?”

She said, “Tall, thin…


I like the pause and the addition of -ish. I’m also not tall except in comparison to Mookie and Joy, but that’s enough to establish me as “the tall one.”

“You’re smart. You have freckles.
You had chicken pox twice.”

(This is true, and has clearly made quite an impression on Mookie.)

“Which makes you kind of have spots. And you’re almost a vegetarian.”

I’m moved to realize that since she was two, my daughter has thought of me as a mother giraffe. It’s sweet.


Yesterday Mookie asked if she were weird; a girl had said, not approvingly, that she was. We affirmed the general virtue of weirdness and said pooh pooh to the girl.

Tonight Mookie was hunting through a drawer for the bag of dried mangoes.

Me: Honey? I don’t appreciate the way that girl made it sound like a bad thing, because it’s a good thing–but you are weird.

Mookie: Why are you saying that?

Me: Well, sweetheart, you just called to the mangoes, “Come to Mummy.”

She started laughing so much she literally rolled on the floor. Hey, I was just quoting her.


Playground wisdom

Mookie was in a playground when she observed, “Sometimes you just can’t go back the way you came.”

The adult friend she was with writes, “Preach, amazing child. Thank you for being in my life.”

The feeling is mutual, B. You are such a gift to our family. Mookie loves you, and so do her moms.


I still haven’t posted birthday party pics. My cell phone died suddenly, so I hope I’ll be able to retrieve them and upload them here some rainy day.

Anyway, I have to report a conversation we had the other day. I was telling Mookie about the Titanic. She wanted to know why the unsinkable ship sank.

Me: It hit an iceberg.
Mookie, in tone of great alarm: Were there any penguins on it?!