Saturday

I am still sick, or more accurately, sicker. But, voice or no voice (it's kind of a cross btwn the chick who sang Bette Davis Eyes and a prank caller), feeling like I am swallowing glass, choking on crud I had no idea resided in my head every time I cough or try to talk for more than one sentence (très gross!), or not, life goes on.

I spent most of the day in a retirement seminar. I hated being away from Mal on a saturday, to be honest I hated being upright, but I am 5 years away from the big moment, and this is when they recommend we begin getting our financially savvy ducks in a row. Besides, lunch was awesome- yea, I can still eat- there is no justice in my world.

But, in the couple of hours before and after the powerpoint-presentation-a-thon, these are some of the more noteworthy convos with Miss Malía.

On the way to drop her at Vó-Vó and Vô-Vô's:

Malía: Mama? Vô-Vô?

Mama: Yes, Malía, we're going to Vó-Vó and Vô-Vô's.

Malía: No. Stay home. Mama house. Okay?

Mama: Sorry, baby, but Mama has to go to a workshop. I'm sorry.

Malía: Okay. (the after a pause) Mama, sunshi'e behin da twees.

(I think she was speaking metaphorically :)

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At my parents' house while she was having supper:

Malía: I eat fwench fwies. Twy it, Mama.

Mama: I already ate Mal, but thank you.

Malía: (pouting) Dowothy's crying.

Mama: Really? Why?

Malía: She go home.

Mama: She can't go home?

Malía: No. Wed shoes.

Mama: That's right, she taps together the red shoes and goes home. Who are her friends?

Malía shrugs.

Mama: The tin man?

Malía: Yeah, ti' man.

Mama: Yes, he wants a heart. And, who's made of straw, Mali? Who wants a brain?

Malía: (looking at the 3 sets of adoring eyes on her, gets this huge grin on her face and blurts out) Mama!

(that's it kid, no more fwies for you!)

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In the car on the way home:

Malía: Mama sing "Raimbow"

Mama: Aw sweetie, don't make mama sing it hurts. I can't okay?

Malía: Sing "Raimbow".

Mama: Aw Mal.

Malía: "Raimbow", peese?

I started singing and believe me it was waaaay off, and I wasn't faking it.

Malía: Mama, no! (but I keep singing. She kicks her feet) Shtop it!! Shtop it!!

Mama: What? I thought you wanted Rainbow?

Malía: No, don' sing.

(Simon Cowell moment revisted)

On the potty, at home:

Malía: Mama, I wan my doggy.

Mama dutifully calls the Beast into the washroom where he tries to lick Mal's face. She pushes him away.

Malía: No!! I wan doggy!

Mama: (confused) Uh, Mal, you have one doggy and for better, or for worse, he's it.

Malía: (Pointing behind him.) Dat doggy!!!

I look and see a Remembrance Day poppy that has fallen off the counter.

Mama: The poppy??

Malía: Yeah, puppy!!

I give it to her and she holds it up for me to get a good look.

Malía: (in a voice that clearly says Mama needs a brain) Puppy, Mama! Doggy!!

(doh!)