Sunday, December 23, 2007

Toddler Logic

Lulu is now 3 1/2: going on 14. I swear. My mom points out that she is a lot like me when I was 3 1/2. If that's true (and I am sure it probably is), my mom is certainly a candidate for sainthood.

You can't argue with this kid. Actually, you can't even have a conversation with her. She argues with EVERYTHING. She has elevated quibbling to an art form, disputing topics that can't technically be argued. I guess that's a perk to toddlerdom...being unfettered by the shackles of grownup logic. Neither of my kids have truly transcended this stage. The fact is this: children under a certain (still unknown to me) age gleefuly hurtle about in an alternate dimension that is governed only by the laws of "toddler logic."

Take today for instance. I gave the kids their baths. Baths at our house follow a predictable course: laments about bathwater temperature, whining about water in the eyes, griping about having to actually be washed, warnings about keeping our hands to ourselves, forcible retraction from the offending bathtub, and wailing about how COOOOOLD it is while drying off. Finally, they were both dried, greased, dressed, and combed.

Then Lulu sneezed.

First example of Toddler Logic: I will never understand how a kid who eats her own boogers for between-meal snacks can have a snot phobia.

Here''s the scene:



What?!? What, for goodness sake??


Well. go get one! They're right over there!

Crippled by mucous, she hobbled over to the toliet and the next thing I knew I heard onetwothreefourfivesixseveneight kleenexes being pulled out in ambidexterous rapid-fire succession. Accomplished (in true toddler fashion) in the exact amount of time that it took my ears to connect to my brain and process what was happening.

I looked over and my lovely child was two-fisting enough kleenex to last me three months. Wearing a deer-in-the-headlights-look, she was desperately trying wipe her nose.

Now, I am not an environmentalist or anything, but my first thought was how many trees sacrificed themselves for this miniscule droplet of sneeze juice. My second thought was what a waste this was of good kleenex. Because they're sooooo expensive. Yeah.

Like most parents of toddlers, my compulsive reaction was to ask a question that I already knew the answer to:

How many kleenexes do you have there?

Now, come on. What did I really expect her to say? "Well, mother. I have acquired eight kleenex." This is a kid who thinks five is the biggest number that exists. She naturally responded with the standard toddler answer to dumb parent questions:

"I'oun know."

Arrogantly snubbing Toddler Logic, I dispensed this profound insight:

Well, you don't need eight kleenex. It only takes one. You use it up, throw it away, and then you can have another one if you still need it. You only have one nose: you only need one kleenex.

Disgusted with my debilitating stupidity, she pointed indignantly at her nose and deftly countered:


Duh mom. No arguing that. End of discussion.

Score? Lulu - 1, Mommy - 0


Monnik said...

I'm so glad you're back!

Sneeze juice. haha.

That Lulu is a smart one... Future debate team captain perhaps?

Tiff said...

What's this??? Two posts in a week. At Christmas? And you say you're too busy to post.

See you guys on Saturday!