Democracy in Action

After their snack tonight Beatrice started plying her siblings with questions about what they should do before bed.

Beatrice:  "Raise your hand if you want to play Star Wars tonight."
Hands raise.
Beatrice: "Raise your hand if you want to play Warrior Cats tonight."
Hands raise.
Beatrice: "Raise your hand if you want to stop raising your hand."
Hands raise.
Giggles.

; )

Bee-isms

We got a big bag of Kettle Cooked Popcorn from Trader Joe's yesterday and I've been trying to make myself share some of it with the kids. So we took it to the park to snack on while we did a little school work. The kids are all very interested in the super sugary pieces and dig through the bag to find the best ones. Beatrice pulled out a little unpopped portion and said:

HEY! Look at this sugary corn-el.

Not a kernel of popcorn. A corn-el. LOL!

A Matter of Size

While sitting at dinner yesterday Beatrice was talking about the sizes of the people in our family. We've been talking about how Maggie is growing up and about how big Obie is getting and she hears these things and computes them in her odd little mind. So at dinner she's looking at everyone's plates or cups or something and starts going through how big each person is by how big their item is. She starts, "Obie is big. I'm bigger. Maggie is biggest!" Then she stops for a moment. "And Mom is, uh, uh, biggest..er. And Dad is most biggest of all!!"

Biggester. I'm not sure that's a title I want to live up to.

Dinner with Beatrice

Tonight, dinner was a hit with all three of the kids. I put pork ribs in the crock pot and since we were out of barbeque sauce, I smothered them with teriyaki marinade. They smelled throughout the house all afternoon, Maggie repeatedly came to ask me if it was time to eat ribs yet, and we were all salivating by the time I had the plates on the table.

The ribs came out tender and juicy and delicious. Each of the girls took a special joy in loosening the bones out and slurping on them. They thought it was a riot that there was an extra bowl on the table just for tossing those bones in. They kept saying over and over and over, "these ribs are so good," or "this meat is delicious", or "can we have this every night".

Then, as she was diligently pulling a chunk of meat from a bone, Beatrice turns to me and asks, "Mom, are these ribs from a person or a pig?"

I'm slightly alarmed that she would have continued to eat them either way.

Bee-isms

Beatrice: "Mom," *sigh* "I don't like bunnies because they're not cool."

Me: "Yeah?"

Beatrice: "Yeah, they're just silly."

Bee-isms

Shouted from the bathroom:

"Mom!!! Why can't we bring the TV in here??"

Well, Beatrice, it's a matter of hygiene, mostly...

Beatrice Believes in Capital Punishment

I can usually find Little Bee playing with an assortment of fuzzy stuffed animals and don't usually pay much attention to it, but today as I was sitting on the couch with Obie I overheard a conversation she was having with her stuffed friends.

Evidently they were gathering around a campfire, which she represented with a small blue plate. She put each animal beside it and whispered to herself what it was doing. Things like "Freckles is going to make marshmallows" or "Sondra's baby kitty is sitting by the fire" or "Then all the Petshops came". She placed each of them around the fire and whispered them their duties or instructions. Then she took the giraffe and said, "You go ON the campfire!"

She had no idea I was listening in until I laughed out loud at her. She looked up inocently and gave me a big goofy grin. "Why does the giraffe have to go on the fire, Bee?" I asked.

"He's been naughty. He stole stuff and he gets a punishment," she told me.

"I'll bet he's sorry, though isn't he," I asked, hoping for a little good will towards this pilfering animal. "Shouldn't we forgive him?"

"Umm, no," came her reply. "He needs to get burnt."

Bee-isms

Beatrice came to me this morning trying to put on a pair of footed pajamas - the fleece kind that zip all the way up the front. She had both of her feet in and was having trouble getting her arms in because the jammies were turned inside-out.

"Mom," she said, "can you fix these arm-holders?"