Disclaimer: My daughter will be 3 (going on 30) in 19 days, so she’s not technically 3 yet.
Disclaimer part II: Does that matter? Heck no!
I move on.
The other day, there we are the three of us as a family. We look so cute and freshly groomed. Remember, I don’t go out in yoga pants. I know, hate me. So the whole family is at a table at a restaurant, waiting to give our order, when they mid-2o something waitress with her angelic face comes up to the table. An independent “woman,” my daughter isn’t shy with adults, and so she goes to place her order.
“And what would you like?” the sweet waitress asks.
“Poopy! Poopy! I want poopy! Ha hahahaha. Poooopy!”
“Is that a nice thing to say? We don’t say that in public,” I remind her, to which she continues to say, “Poopy. Poopy pants.”
Note: Her father tells her after the waitress leaves, that we only say poopy at home. To which she reminds me, each day. “We say poopy at home Mommy.”
Now my daughter adds “poopy” to every song and phrase known to mankind.
You might like to know that my daughter sings all day long, to herself, out loud…on playdates…while she’s POOPING. Always.
So it’s ” Beauty and the beast…tale as old as time, song as old as POOPY!”
Or worse, I know, “I pledge allegiance..to the poop.”
We don’t say that! I told her, but alas, she believes poop is a fabric of this country.
Some might agree sadly.
And if it’s not poop, she is repeating me. As she fell the other day at the playground, “Jesus Christ!”
“Honey, some people might find that offensive,” I say, as a non-observant Jew, raised by a catholic who converted, who constantly invoked the triecta: Jesus. Mary, and Joseph.
“Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ!”
And now, she likes to take her copying of me to the ultimate level. If we are talking and she feels I am not adequately addressing her needs she’ll say, “Are you listening to me?” in the tone I use for her dad.
I do my best not to laugh, but when we tell her “no, we said you’re not going to get a treat,” and she retorts adamantly, “No, I said yes, I’m going to get a treat,” it’s hard not to appreciate her desire to assert herself.
If only the words dominatrix and dictatorship didn’t come to mind when she speaks, we’d be okay.
This is 3: poop. assertiveness, defiance, and yes, fun.
It may seem like an exercise in masochism, but parenting a 3 year-old is never dull, and is certainly a blessing.
I love my little dictator.
She’s actually quite good.
Some of you may like that.
Apple and the tree,