Victoria's open secret

The following is a 100%-authentic conversation with my 2-year-old daughter M- that my wife (J-) and sister recently endured when they were unfortunate enough to end up in Victoria's Secret with her:

M- (loudly, while pointing at some mannequins, scandalized): Why can you see their bummies?!

J- (vainly encouraging her to take the volume down a few notches): ...Because the store wants to show you what all the different underwear looks like when you wear it.

M- (thinking): Ohhh. ... (now excited AND loud) You can see their vaginas! Why can you see their vaginas??!

J- (dumbfounded, and probably blushing due to the increasing attention and laughter): No, no M-, you can't.

M- (mercifully letting that one go as she looks around more): Hey, they have no heads, but they have boobs!* Why don't they have heads?!?

J- (skipping a chance for some biting social commentary): Well... 'cause you don't need to see their heads for underwear and bras. Their heads don't matter for that.

M-: Ummm, okay, but when I get big and buy a bra, can I still have my head?

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* I have no idea where she learned this word, but hopefully it doesn't become her new favorite for random shouting.

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You may also enjoy my previous M- conversations, (5 YO son) D- conversations, and (wife) J- conversations.

Posted by LiteralDan

A mother-daughter conversation: We're not talking to him anymore

I thought I'd just quickly share today a frighteningly foreshadowing conversation that took place recently between my wife J- and my 2-year-old daughter M-:

M- (having built a few short stacks of Duplos on the table): Look Momma, this is a family!

J- (laying on the usual patronizing Parent voice): Oh, that's a verrry nice family.

M- (like all women*, craving drama): And this one is nasty.

J-: Oh, he shouldn't be nasty, he should be nice.

M- (dismissively): He can't help it, him's just nasty.

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* Disclaimer: When I say "all women", I am of course merely employing a rhetorical flourish, instead of specifically stating the reality, which is that every single woman in the history of time lives and breathes through the creation, enhancement, or management of drama.

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You may also enjoy my previous (5 YO son) D- conversations, (2YO daughter) M- conversations, and (wife) J- conversations.

Posted by LiteralDan

Service with a smile

While eating dinner the other evening, my wife J- asked me for a napkin. I immediately reached for my own as she began an anecdote, and I quickly flicked it over toward her with two fingers, in my continuing effort to set the best possible example I can for the children.*

The napkin, folded just once in half, sliced up through the air and then zoomed straight down into her mouth like a sniper's bullet shot from an extremely handsome and talented gun.

Because this may already be the most perfect moment that will ever happen in my entire life, I can't help but feel a bit melancholy whenever I laugh hysterically all over again about the look on her face.

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* I have to note here, in a footnote as long as the post itself, that she absolutely hates having things thrown towards her, since she's baselessly paranoid about her supposed inability to catch projectiles of any kind, so I'm not really sure why I chose to throw the napkin in the first place, but I admit I had no idea it had the weight and shape to perform this miracle.

She's actually not half-bad at catching, and not quarter-bad at throwing, though of course she's nowhere near the superhuman level at which I operate.

I think it must be my own freakish reflexes that lead me to constantly initiate spontaneous games of catch on a microsecond's notice. After all this time, J-'s been known to threaten me with severe bodily harm at seeing me do so much as raise my arm up with something in my hand.

Even she had to appreciate the beauty of this one, though. The kids sure did.

Posted by LiteralDan