Sweetie Saturday #43

I was playing a game of solitaire the other day (not on the computer! with real cards and all!) when Sweetie asked me what I was playing.

Solitaire

Oh

About 10 minutes later, after not paying much attention to me, Sweetie inquired,

How do you play Golden Hair?

Huh?

Blank stare

Oh! Solitaire! Not Golden Hair. Solitaire. It's kind of hard. You have to play it by yourself.

Oh.

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Did I ever tell you what Sweetie requests of me or Hubby (or whomever else is around first thing in the morning)? I must have - she's been doing this forever. But just in case...

Every morning, or evening - whenever she has her milk to drink or is just feeling a bit snuggly or cold - Sweetie requests that she be held with two hands.

Hold me with two hands, Mommy.

Then, if you dare to unclasp your hands from each other, so that you're no longer encircling Sweetie tightly, she'll quickly and silently bring the errant hand back to its proper clasped resting place.

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Sweetie is very particular. She's got all sorts of rules.

Every morning she has morning milk.

Every evening she has bed milk.

Every evening she needs to play a bed game.

And every night, right before she goes to bed, she and I need to share a hug and a kiss and a nose (at the very least - sometimes there are eyes and ears and cheeks and such as well). Then I need to ask her what time she'll get up in the morning and if she promises to stay in bed all night.

If one of these (or any regular step she shares with her Daddy) is missed, then Sweetie will most likely be calling to us from her bedroom for one of us to come and make up for the missed part of the routine.

Then, and only then, can she happily go to sleep.

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Last night my parents took me and Sweetie out to dinner, after which we stopped at Target. Only mom ran in, though, to quickly buy me (and her) our next book club book.

While Nana was in the store, Papa Dave, Sweetie and I drove around the parking lot, waiting for Nana to come back out. Sweetie started to cry that she wanted to go in the store with Nana, but I told her no.

Nana just went in super, super quick because the store is going to close real soon and she's got to be quick so she's not locked in all night.

After thinking about that for just a second, Sweetie answered,

Well... Will Papa Dave put me to bed then when Nana is locked in?

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This morning Sweetie announced that she had to go potty. I followed her in there, but I was a little late. She said,

I already peed (don't worry, it was in the potty - no accidents for Sweetie!)

Okay.

Hah! I mean piddled, not peed. Piddle is Spanish for pee. I talk Spanish just like you do, Mommy! (I don't, really. Don't know where that came from).

Then, just a bit ago, Sweetie informed her Daddy that,

Tombe' is French for "fall". (that's true, although I don't know if my spelling is correct). And piddle is Spanish for "pee".

Whatever you say, Sweetie. You're crazy. (to which Sweetie's latest typical response is, I'm not crazy anymore! and to which I occasionally respond, Well, you're not crazy any less either!)