Charlotte is two and can make her own decisions, thankyouverymuch. She knows what she wants to eat. She knows what she wants to wear. She knows what she wants to play and what she wants to watch on Netflix. She knows whether she wants to ride in the stroller or walk (always walk) or whether she wants water or juice (always juice).
This is all great, except when it isn’t. Like when we don’t have any juice, for example, which happens at least once per week between grocery runs. But Charlotte likes her juice in the morning, and if she can’t have that, milk can be a hard sell.
Unless you have dinosaur milk. I’ll bet you didn’t know that the reptilian T-Rexes were actually milk-producing. And I’ll bet you really didn’t know you can still get that milk delivered right to your fridge. Thanks to Charlotte’s awesome daddy, we always have T-Rex milk in our house. Charlotte thinks it’s T-Rexcellent.
Unfortunately, there are still some mornings when we really don’t have it together and we run out of the dinosaur milk, too. Then what?
Sorry, Charlotte: water it is!
Undoubtedly, this double failure on our part would result in some sort of fit (ranging from a quick whine to a throwing self on floor, depending on the morning)… except Chris came up with a brilliant solution:
Put it in a tiny cup.
Boom. Success. Water is so much better when it’s poured into a tiny container meant for leftovers and then plugged with a sippy lid. Happy child=happy morning=bought some time before the next grocery run=happy parents.
Now let’s talk about Charlotte’s footwear. It’s no secret that she loves her shoes, but she’s more than a little particular about which pair she wants to wear on a given day. The pink cowgirl boots are almost always a winner for her, which is great because they’re okay to wear for pretty much every occasion. But sometimes she’s insistent about another pair of shoes, like a pair of flimsy sandals when it’s -10 degrees out. She has a pair of athletic shoes that she rarely wants to wear, but they are so perfect for tot time that it kind of kills us when she she’d rather wear her high heels. Her lonely gym shoes sat under her crib for ages, wishing they could take Charlotte to tot time, despite her rejection of them day after day.
Well folks, that is now an issue of the past because Chris has convinced her that her gyms shoes are really awesome. And all he did was call them her fast shoes and make a cool swishing noise when she put them on her feet.
Hey Charlotte, do you want to wear your fast shoes? You can run really, really fast in them, see? whoosh, whoosh, whoosh! (Hold shoes, whisking them back and forth in front of your body.)
Charlotte’s eyes widen.
Gym shoes? No thanks, says Charlotte. But fast shoes? I’ll take em!
So that’s what we call them now, and the noise is still a nice effective touch.
In conclusion, I love my husband for being a brilliant manipulator. Dinosaur milk, a tiny cup, and fast shoes. Who knew parenting could be so easy??
Oh, and here’s a picture of Charlotte because, oops, I haven’t posted in awhile. This was taken back in August at the physics department pizza party by a woman who works in the office. This picture is hanging on the wall in the physics building, and I’ve been cooing over it all year. Finally, we remembered to ask for a copy.