Well, that's true for at least an hour a day. Maybe two at the most. Especially when they've just graduated from the terrible twos into the terrifying threes. At least that seems to be the case with Chatty Carmen - who invariably morphs into Crabby Carmen according to the varying phases of the moon. Believe it's linked to the sugar level in her blood as well. Far as I know, a sugar rush seems to soothe the savage beast.
Finished work early today and decided to take Carmen out for a walk ( to free her exhausted mom for some much-needed retail therapy ). Slipped an emergency syringe of sedatives from work in my pocket just in case. Who knows, I might get so raving mad that I'd need to calm myself down.
True to her vaguely Gypsy-sounding name, Carmen remains all rough-and-tumble tomboy with skinned knees and scuffed jeans. Since her mother shares a similarly curious aversion to frilly ruffles and curls, Carmen came out all dressed up like a denim ragamuffin Pippi Longstocking - alas minus the red pigtails.
Come take me for a ride...
One would think I was taking my little Huck Finn for a river raft trip down the meandering Mississippi.
Mounting sartorial issues didn't trouble her as much as everything else did however. Seriously. Carmen's at that curious age where every sentence invariably ends with a question mark. Where a silent period seems almost like a hushed profanity.
Carmen : Why are you looking at that uncle?
Paul : Because he looks hot in a tanktop and he has arms I wanna lick?
Carmen : Lick?
Paul : Look! It's lunchtime.
Carmen : What's lunchtime?
Paul : What do you want for lunch?
Carmen : Why do you need to have lunch?
Paul : I might be putting on weight but I'm not starving myself.
Carmen : Starving yourself?
Paul : Sigh. How about some chinese food?
Carmen : Why chinese food?
Paul : Because it's nice? Because I like it?
Carmen : Why Chinese?
Paul : Because you're much too Westernized?
Carmen : Why too Westernized?
Paul : Because your father's an Anglophile?
Carmen : What's an Anglophile?
Paul : Someone who doesn't eat chinese.
Carmen : What..?
Paul : Look! A plane!
I admit I hate to lose as well. Especially to a pint-sized sweetheart :) But we were attracting curious attention aimlessly pointing at shop signs in the middle of the crowded walkway ( and despite my hushed whispers, she tends to speak in ear-pounding decibels no doubt thinking that I've gone prematurely deaf in my approaching senility ). Unfortunately had to keep my wandering eye safely on the ladies who shop since I didn't want her catching me drooling over some strolling gym stud.
Well. At least not twice!
After a short game of rock, paper and scissors, we ended up with donuts and dumplings. A compromise.