(kind of like "My Dinner with Andre", except with a toddler)...
Today started with a visit to Gymboree. For some reason Miss B. was wildly popular with the menfolk in her class today. First there was Devin. Devin is a cute little boy with dark hair who is accompanied in class by his Grandma. Once Devin saw Sophie he just kept coming up to her and trying to give her a hug, hold her hand and touch the bird that was on her blouse. I think a big part of the sudden interest in Miss B. had to do with her lovely velour pant set-- much as we have learned in nature, the male of the species is traditionally attracted to bright colors. Miss B.'s top was a lovely shade of orange sherbet velour (with yellow bird detail) and her pants were bright pink. Between this highly colorful garb and Miss B.'s curly hair she just proved to be far too interesting for Devin. Throughout the rest of the class he just kept coming up to her-- so often that Devin's Grandma had to keep interceding and apologizing and saying things like "I've never seen him like this before!"
Half way through class, during parachute time (lead again by Miss Sherri) Miss B. was in the middle of the parachute and Devin didn't see her, but instead honed in on me and stared at me as if to say: "Why are you here? Where's the little girl?? Where did *SHE* go???"
Then there was Andrew. Andrew came up to Miss B. while she was about to negotiate some of the play structure and he just started shouting at her. Well, needless to say she wanted none of that so she started yelling back in some sort of proto-Klingon toddler speak (clearly we've been watching one too many episodes of Star Trek: Next Generation). Next thing you know, both kids are going through the tunnel structures and when they come out the other end, Andrew says: "HI!!!!!" Again, Sophie: Not impressed.
While we're there one of the Gymboree Moms invites herself over for a playdate.
Which is basically a veiled way of saying:
"We don't have plans tomorrow and we haven't gone grocery shopping this week so we're coming over to your house to "play". Make sure you stock up on juice boxes, cookies, oh, and by the way, I like 18 year old scotch or if that's not available I'll take a '56 Bordeaux and some of your finest caviar, after all I could use a break."
This is the same mom who while attempting to put her daughter's hair in pigtails without the aid of a hairbrush said: "She really doesn't have a part in her hair". Yes, that's true, if you don't use a brush! This same child was wearing a maroon tutu and a mismatched character t-shirt. Alas, this must be how hippies are born. This is all very foreign to me. I spent way too many hours as a child having my hair brushed, blowdried and elaborately braided for any of this to make sense to me.
Finally. In the scarred for life department... we have a stink bug problem. Apparently, the Brown Marmorated Stink Bug has infiltrated our area, or as the Penn State website says: "has apparently been accidentally introduced into eastern Pennsylvania" with the logical conclusion being that it has since migrated into Western and Central New Jersey. These little buggers manage to get in to your home through any crack or crevice that they can find, including your windows, etc. Well. Every time we see one we get a piece of toilet paper and gingerly pick it up and flush it away. Unfortunately, Miss B. now associates all Bugs with this ritual, including ladybugs. Anytime Miss B. sees a ladybug (whether it be embroidered on the rug in her room, or in a picture book) she gestures for us to throw it in the toilet. Today, there was a stink bug in the nursery but it was up too high for me to reach. Miss B., ever helpful, went into her bathroom and the next thing I know she has come out with a trail of toilet paper all the way from the toilet paper holder to where she is standing, handing me the paper so I can dispose of the "BHU-G!"
I find this disturbing as I had been trying very hard to eradicate all bugs from my life. This is a natural reaction to having lived in Florida where bugs are so prevalent they practically can register to vote. Now, my poor child thinks even ladybugs get flushed down the toilet!