Skip to main content

"ToTo-what?!?"

Normally I associate guttural rantings with The Prince, usually following some sort of Maker's Mark/beer binge. A favorite (ah, warm memories) occured years ago when we lived in Oakland, California and involved the fast food joint Jack In The Box, and The Prince yelling over and over again about needing "tacos and chips!" following an evening picnic with Brazillian friends. (Do I need to write that this didn't end well?)

But this morning, the Rabbit heard me on the phone with, Yummy London Mummy (so good to hear your voice!!) and thought I was speaking about her beloved movie Totoro. She ran about chasing me, while I was on the phone, screaming in some sort of drunken-binge like rant, "ToTo-what?!? ToTo-what?!? Mommy!!!" The Prince actually had to physically pick up her shaking, twitching body and remove her to her room as nothing could force her mind off the fact that perhaps I was talking to Totoro, or there was a second film to buy, or who knows because she could do nothing but scream the same mutated phrase over and over again like some kind of possessed alien.

Finally, after a spell in her room, and I got off the phone, she emerged. "Rabbit, what did you mean by ToTo-what?" She shrugged, and responded: "Can we make pancakes?"

Scary the workings of the three-year-old mind. I can only imagine that rant will turn up, twisted into some sort "bad mama" story in therapy years from now. Fabulous.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Grim Reaper

Firstborn is obsessed with death. It started with the odd comment, such as; "Mummy, what happens when you die?" OK, I thought, I was expecting this at some point, what a cute little curious brain she has. So I trotted out all the cosy Heaven stuff and left out all the things that could worry her, such as worms and bones and holes in the ground. This went down pretty well, although somehow Firstborn made the jump from my view of Heaven (filled with love, joy, always warm, never rains, has a huge discount designer shoe outlet and I never have to pay my Visa bill) to her own view of Heaven; a wonderous place where small girls don't have to eat their vegetables before they're allowed pudding, and where Barbie dolls grow on trees. Anyway, I digress. Last week Firstborn started shouting "Kill! Kill!" in a bloodthirsty tone while bashing her hithero-beloved teddy against the wall. This was topped by her purposely flushing her favourite My Little Pony down the loo. ...
11 comments
gimme more...

It's my party and I'll cry if I want to

A friend recently emailed me to say that her big memory of her stay with us last year is that she had a great birthday, one of the few where she didn't 'act like a spoiled grumpy princess'. She tried to give me all the credit but as I explained to her, it was all down to having a fellow female organising the birthday fun rather than leaving it to her partner. Her email got me thinking about birthdays and how very different men and women are in their attitudes to celebrating special occasions. It also had me thinking about my birthday two years ago when I threw a major tantrum in the Carrefour car-park after being told that we were off to do the weekly shop, kids in tow, which was simply the final straw at the end of a very uninspiring day. In contrast, my birthday last year was rather lovely (a morning on my own in a spa with no mobile coverage, pure selfish bliss). This year - in a few short months, eek! - I'll be hitting the grand old age of 38. This will be my las...
13 comments
gimme more...