Kids are confusing and terrifying, hilarious, brutal and instructive.
Earlier on when I was not home, some gifts had arrived for a family member’s birthday. The monkey spied them with her beady eye and asked mrbookandbed of they were her.
Perhaps a bit put out that she’s not the only recipient of gifts, she burst out that she didnt want the recipient to come over for the gifts because “she’s too snooty.”
After recovering from my slack-jawed response to husband recounting this sorry tale – where the hell do they get this stuff??? – I decided to move on and deciding we’d just read before bed.
When I asked what she’d like to read she declared she wanted Dr Doolittle, a gift from the “snooty person.”
Cautiously I asked who’d bought it for her and she gleefully and warmly told me who’d given it with no mention of character traits. Perhaps it’s just a good sounding word to the monkey and not an insult.
Im holding my breath until the birthday is past