Claire: “What’s that beeping noise?”
Me: “That’s a special tone that lets blind people know when the lights have changed.”
Claire: “I didn’t know they let blind people drive. That explains A LOT.”
Archive for the 'Conversations' Category
A conversation we had this morning at breakfast:
Daddy: “Claire, today, be sure to find a Leprechaun and make him tell you where he hides his gold. I’d LOVE to get my hands on some extra gold.”
Momma: “Oh, Claire would be good at that. She’s very charming.”
Claire: “Maybe he could come live with us!”
Momma: “Oh! That’s a great idea! Maybe he can be our cook!”
What. We all have our dreams.
I’m constantly writing notes and observations to myself: blog topics, funny things Claire does or says, plot twists for my book.
The easiest way for me to do this is to email myself. Then, when I have the time to focus on them, I either use them or file them away.
Today is the day that I address the one I sent to myself on August 29th. Yes, of 2010. We were in San Francisco, and I’d just given Claire a bath. Rather than lug all of our toiletries with us, we were using the shampoo provided by the hotel. This is sometimes a gamble, but it definitely paid off at this location.
This hotel was niiiiice. I may or may not have stuffed all the little unused bottles of these toiletries in my suitcase to take home. No, I’m not becoming my inlaws, so stop looking at me like that.
Anyway…
As I’m lathering up her hair, she starts to complain, which is odd, because she normally likes this part of the routine.
“Uggggghhhhh!” she says, sputtering.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“This shampoo does NOT smell like princesses!” she shouts, the displeasure of the whole situation crinkling her own delicate princess nose.
“What do princesses smell like?” I ask.
“Well, they DON’T smell like ORANGES.”
I guess you had to be there, but it struck me as so funny and I couldn’t stop laughing. Not sure what princesses smell like? Well, we’ve started to narrow it down… 
Yesterday, Claire and I drove out to have lunch with one of my long-time friends. She works waaaay out east now, and as we were zipping along, I noticed that the speed limit had changed.
“Woo hoo! I forgot the speed limit is 75 out here!” I said with glee.
“75??” says Claire. She always asks me the speed limit, but she’s used to hearing answers like 35 or 45.
Then, in the same excited tone, she says, “That means you can’t go slower than 75?”
That’s my girl.
Yesterday, Claire and I were going to take a little break and watch the latest episode of So You Think You Can Dance. Because of her fondness for all things Ballet and Dance-related, we enjoy this show.
We were having lunch and talking about our plan for the afternoon. That’s when she turned and looked at me.
“You know,” she says in all seriousness. “If I was on that show, it wouldn’t be called that. It would be called, ‘I KNOW I Can Dance.’”
Ha!
Well, I can say one thing: What she lacks in years of experience, she makes up for in confidence!
This is one of my favorite pictures from our camping weekend!
This last weekend, in honor of Father’s Day Weekend, and in honor of Daddy Isn’t On Call Weekend, and in honor of The Weather Promises to Be Awesome Weekend, we packed it up, packed it it and let it begin…
…we went camping!
The weather was perfect!
This time, we headed to locales to the northwest of us and tried out a new area. When we go camping with other families, we wander off into the woods and live deliberately (i.e. without pit toilets), but this time, because we found an awesome spot when we got to where we were going, we tried out an official campground.
The campsite was just the right size for us! (And relatively private for a "real" campground.)
The upside to sharing the area with other campers is the pit toilet. The downside to sharing the area with the other campers is the pit toilet.
You never know what you’re going to get with a pit toilet. Pit toilets are always a crapshoot. Literally.
I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist!
I must say, however, at this campground, the pit toilets were some of the cleanest I’ve seen.
On one of our numerous trips there, Claire got really excited.
“You know what, Momma!?”
“What, sweetheart?”
“This is just like going to the bathroom in a CASTLE!!!”
I couldn’t help but laugh. We had been reading a book about castles that my mom and dad gave her, and one of the pictures they have in there is of the garderobe. (That’s a fancy name for the “toilet” they used in the castle.)
“Yes!” I agreed. “Yes, it is!”
“Only we don’t have a curtain,” she said.
“This is true. We just have a door…but no curtain.”
“Do you know the best part??”
“What’s that?” I asked, wondering where this was headed.
“When I pee or poop, it goes in the SAUCE-PIT!”
“Sauce-pit?” I asked. “Oh! Yes! It goes in the cesspit!” I knew what she was trying to say a split-second after she said it.
I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard in a pit toilet in my life.
Claire: Knock Knock
Me: Who’s there?
Claire: Banana
Me: Banana who?
Claire: Banana Owl!
At first, I laughed to be polite, but then the punch line hit me and I laughed for real. Get it? A banana that says “who” must be an owl!
…specifically a Banana Owl.
Ha!
I love 4-year olds.
While eating lunch, Claire keeps rolling her eyes.
“Is this right?” she says.
“Is what right?” I ask.
“This…” she says as she rolls her eyes again. “I’m practicing rolling my eyes.”
“Yep, that looks right!” I say. I mean, what can I say? Her form looks fine. She could work on the nostril flare and sigh, but I’m not giving her any pointers this early in the game. Practice makes perfect, but I’m not sure that she needs to practice…I’m sure she’ll have plenty of opportunity to perfect it over the next few years.
The following is a conversation Claire and I had at the dinner table last night.
Me: Claire, what was your favorite part of school today?
Claire: I got to have a cupcake! THAT was my FAVORITE part of school today!
Me: Wow! Cupcakes? Was it someone’s birthday?
Claire: No, we just got to have cupcakes because it was a special day!
Me: A special day? What special day was it?
Claire: CUPCAKE DAY!
Obviously.
“Momma, sing me this song,” Claire says.
She often asks me to sing songs for her, and I try my best. Sometimes, I’m really good at it…and other times, not so much.
“Which one, sweetie?” I ask, wondering what it will be this time. Beyonce? Oasis? Man in a Box? Lump? What. Anything is possible.
“Hallaline a chanchaline,” she says.
“Halla what?” I ask.
This isn’t the first time she’s requested this song. The other day, she asked me to sing this song, and I couldn’t figure it out. When we’re not trapped in the car, I can pull them up on my iTunes or Youtube if I don’t know how they go. As this wasn’t an option at the moment, I was able to distract her by singing a different song. She forgot all about her original song request, and so I had I…until now.
“Hallaline a chanchaline,” she says again. “You know, the one on Rock Band.”
That doesn’t really narrow it down. We have a lot of songs on Rock Band.
“Say it again,” I coax her. She’s usually really good at pronouncing words, and there are very few times when I don’t understand her.
“HALLALINE A CHANCHALINE,” she says, exasperated. “It goes, ‘Hallaline a chanchaline. Hallaline a chancheline. Wouldya like time. Wouldya like time.’ Ya know? Come on, Momma. SING IT.”
Uhh… “Hallaline a chanchaline” I sing, matching her tune.
“No, sing ALL of it,” she says. My trick hadn’t worked.
The tune and the words are distorted as they travel from her four-year old brain out her mouth, but she sings it the same way every time. Now, she’s signing it over and over, the exact same way every time, hoping that I’ll finally understand it.
I don’t.
Soon she finds that singing it louder doesn’t help me figure it out any quicker.
“Okay, you said it’s on Rock Band. Which one? The first one or the second one?” I ask. Maybe she’ll give me a clue.
“The second one. Duh! HALLALINE A CHANCHALINE! HALLALINE A CHANCHALINE! WOULDYA LIKE TIME. WOULDYA LIKE TIME.”
“Okay, calm down. We’ll figure it out. Just give me a second,” I say as I’m wracking my brain. I love puzzles. I’m good at puzzles. Most normal, sane people would be amazed at some of the things I figure out, even on the smallest of clues.
Normally, I can Name That Tune in two notes, Jim, or knock Twisted Lyrics for 1,000 out of the park, Alex.
But not this time.
Hallaline a chanchaline? Wouldya like time? The second part (that she’s now shouting) sounds vaguely familiar.
“Rock Band 2?” I say, stalling.
“YES,” she says. “HALLALINE A CHANCHALINE! ON ROCK BAND TWO! It’s the one where the cars are racing, and then they crash! And he’s bald! The guy singer. He’s a man! He’s singing! And he’s bald! And the drummer guy is drumming! And they crash! But they keep singing! And they go whhhhhoaaaa, and they fly! And they keep singing!” She’s showing all the animation for this, of course.
She’s describing the opening song/animation of Rock Band 2, so I know we’re on the right track.
“Okay, so it’s on Rock Band 2,” I say. “Is it the song they sing during that opening or is it on into the game?”
“HALLALINE A CHANCHALINE!” she sings again. “They play it! Hallaline a chanchaline. Wouldya like time. Wouldya like time.”
Luckily, we’re at home, close to youtube. I could go downstairs and get Rock Band all set up to see exactly what the opening song is, but I’m sure I can find it online. I can picture the opening in my mind, but the song totally escapes me, what with all the Hallaline a chanchaline being shouted at me.
Sure enough, we find it, and she’s thrilled!
“THAT’S IT!” she screams as Cheap Trick‘s, Hello There starts playing. “HALLALINE A CHANCHALINE!”
Want the translation? Hallaline a chanchaline is “Hello there ladies and gentlemen,” and Wouldya like time actually sounds exactly like that to me, but is technically, “Would you like to.” (As in “Would you like to do do a number with me? Would you like to do a number with me? Would you like to? Would you like to?”)
So, the mystery is solved. We listened to the song a few times, and then I shut youtube and started to go about my day.
“Sing me a song,” she says.
“Okay, sweetie. What would you like me to sing?” How about Lump, I think to myself. I love singing that song, and I know the tune and all the words by heart.
“Hallaline a chanchaline!” she says with a smile.
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