My darling daughters keep me so entertained and amused. This week included another wealth of gems from their sweet little lips, and as usual I have forgotten most of them (there are so many!).
On Friday, when we butchered the eyeball, I was doing revision of the week’s work with the girls. As you know, right now we’re working through the sense of sight as part of our attentiveness study unit. So I asked, “What do you call animals who see best at night”. Both girls immediately chirped, “Nocturnal!” Delighted at my obvious success as an educator, I continued, “and what do you call animals who see best during the day?”. There followed a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. Finally DD#1 replied, “uuhhh … di …. diversional?”. (It’s diurnal, as you know, of course). It was made so much more amusing by the fact that DD#1 is our so-called “ADD” child, so diversional indeed.
Today, to extend the theme of Looking Closely at Things Around Us, the girls are sketching things, and colouring them in. This involves feats of genius for DD#1, a talented artist, who has successfully transformed two tiny little necklace charms into large scale Manga animations (very accurately proportioned according to the aforementioned charms’ dimensions), with detailed and intricate storylives wandering clear across both sides of three sheets of A4 paper. All in grey-scale, of course, for this is She Who Eschews Colour.
In the meantime, DD#2 has somehow persuaded Mother Dear (that’s me) that it is every bit as educational for her if I draw the picture and she colours it in. Needless to say, it needed to be a Princess. As is so often the case, it was a fait accompli some time before I realised that I could have – nay, should have – said “no”, and insisted that she draw the picture herself.
However, that isn’t the funny part. DD#2’s super powers at controlling and manipulating those around her to do her spun-sugar bidding are legendary, yes, but hardly new. (You’d think we’d be better prepared by now).
The funny part came while she was colouring in the Princess. She neatly stuck a pink, purple and light blue pencil crayon between the clenched fingers of her little fist and said, “Look, Mommy! Wolverette!” (As in, “a girl Wolverine“). I literally laughed out loud.
(Yes, my six-year-old daughter probably shouldn’t know who Wolverine is, but her closest acquaintances and friends include ten-year-old boys. And I thought making the name feminine all by herself was very clever indeed, Not to mention hilarious).