Thursday, February 21, 2008
Last weekend, our very dear friends Katy and Dean Boshart brought their three kids (Jack, 10, Sam, 7, and Ava--6 months and gorgeous) to visit. It was the first time any of us had met Ava and Ryan and I plotted several plans to steal her, abandoning them only when we saw how tired Katy and Dean were and remembered that we didn't like being that tired.
Collin's response to the weekend: JACK AND SAM!!!!! SAM!!! BIg boys are cool, I'm a big boy, soon I'm going to be 10 years old and then I can jump off the sofa and throw the basketball and play cool games like Jack and Sam . . .
Lilah's response: Goo goo ga ga.
And also: "I need a diaper. And a high chair." In short, some serious attempts at regression to infancy. We don't know if it was the attention Ava got, how cute Ava was (not that Lilah's not cute, but still), or the extremely soft and bright pink fuzzy blanket that Ava brought with her, but Lilah had some sense that this litle girl was onto a good thing.
In other Lilah news, many of you have no doubt heard about her ascension to the throne as--self-titled, I assure you--The Mean Queen. This is an onerous and wearisome responsibility, as it involves generally being mean to and with small stuffed animals, bossing around Baby Troll (Collin) and Mommy Troll (guess who) and avoiding the surpassing authority of Daddy, who refuses to cooperate and remains, well, Daddy. An amusing recent conversation in this vein:
Mean Queen: Mommy. You and Collie need to do what I say because you my customers.
Mommy: No, honey, customers are people who buy things from you. We're your subjects.
Mean Queen: Subjects?
Mommy: That's right. That's what you call us.
Ryan (to me, upon walking in and overhearing the above): What is wrong with you? Are you crazy? Stop encouraging her.
Well, I don't want her to get made fun of at the World Convention of Evil But Cute Rulers for using the wrong word, do I?
But then you would be underestimating the subtleties of Collin's mind, as well as, frankly, the extent of his success wih the ladies. As evidence, I submit a conversation from the car just last week:
Collin: (coy) Mommy, I have two new girlfriends.
Me: Really, buddy? Who?
Collin: Naomi and Katya.
Me: (blankly) Oh. Wait--who was your old girlfriend?
Collin: (infinite ennui) Oh. Rachel.
And how does he get these girlfriends of his? Collin has figured out a tactic that his other male friends at school have not: tell the girls that you like princesses.
Next he is going to learn to love shoe shopping.