Kids’ Quotes

Winning Numbers

My stocking this Christmas included some scratch-off lottery tickets.  Of course, I asked Sophie to help me scratch them off.

Each time she uncovered a number with the edge of her penny she gleefully announced what number she found.  Being three years old and being thus unable to read, she declared most of them were “eight.” I took the chance to point out the numbers’ correct names.

“That’s a five!” I’d say, after scratching off one of the “winning numbers” spaces.  When she later uncovered a second five under “your numbers,” I was able to say, “That’s another five, just like this one here.  See?  Five… five!”

Attentive readers will at this point suspect that uncovering such matching numbers would indicate a winning ticket.  I, at the time, didn’t even notice.  The only point of having two identical numbers was to show Sophie what they looked like.  Immediately after saying, “it’s just like this other five up here,” I announced to the other adults, “aww, no matches; this one’s a loser.”

They had to correct me.  And then review all the other tickets we’d done.

(It only won $2, but I could as easily have been discarding a $2,000 game in favor of a reading lesson.)

Best Phone Call Ever

The phone rings at 11:12.  I answer.

Me: Hello.

Sophie: I’m going to see Santa.

Me:  You’re going to see Santa again?

Sophie: Yeah!  I’m going to see Santa and get presents!

Me:  Ooooh, fun!  Did you see Santa at the parade yesterday?

Sophie: Yeah! Okay, bye!

The call disconnects.

0 minutes, 35 seconds elapsed

Pessimism!™

On the train home this afternoon, I avoided a seat with a puddle of water in it.  It’s not a particularly common occurrence, but it’s also never a good idea to sit down on the train before looking.  Several people at each stop performed the same dance: headed straight for the empty seat, then saw its contents and moved farther into the car.

Then came a young boy followed immediately by his mother.  The boy, anxious to pull himself into his own seat, reached up and stretched his hands across the chair, planting them right in the middle of the puddle — before his mother saw it, and before anybody had a chance to utter a word of warning.

His mother, disapproving but in good spirits, lamented while cleaning his hands, “See, you didn’t look before you leaped!  We don’t even know what’s in that water.”

The boy immediately announced,without missing a beat, and with a level of excitement normally reserved for new bicycles:

It might be pee!

Either he’s experienced this situation before, or this kid’s got a great future as a pessimist.

Away in a Toy Store

While I was shopping for Christmas presents at an excellent toy store called Magic Beans in Brookline today, I noticed a very small child — maybe a little over one year old — in front of me in line with her grandmother.

The child was clearly just beginning to speak, having perhaps mastered words like “no” and “da-da.”  And maybe “tape recorder,” which I’m told joined my own vocabulary right after “da-da” when my mother asked me to “say ‘da-da’ into the tape recorder.”  (Even then I had a sarcastic streak, apparently.)

This little girl was playing with some toys near the register, but when Grandma asked her to put them back, the child stomped right over to her (clearly exerting herself to walk upright at all, much less while holding toys), held up the playthings for Grandma to take, and then casually uttered two simple words, with near perfect pronunciation:

Buy it!

And that, boys and girls, is the story of how Christmas really began.

Sophie is Cute (Exhibit F)

Sophie has started planning a lot lately.  After we told her we were going to Chili’s for lunch, for example, she announced that she’d be getting soup.  Then she began checking up on our dining plans periodically during the car ride there:

“Sophie get soup?”  Yep!  “Ben get soup?”  No, I want to get chicken.

Then a little later:

“Sophie get soup?”  Yep!  “Ben get chicken?”  Yep!

This tactic apparently lets her formulate her own plans based on ours.  At bedtime on Friday night, for instance, she checked up on our evening plans:

Sophie:  Mommy go night night?
Mommy:  Yep!  Mommy’s going night night.
Sophie:  Ben go night night?
Ben:  Yep!  Ben’s going night night.
Sophie: (decisively) Sophie watch Pooh!

At least now we know what she does after everyone else is asleep.

Sophie is Cute (Exhibit E)

On August 15th, at 6:18 pm, I stepped off the escalator into the terminal building at Denver International Airport.  The moment I turned the corner I saw a pink Sophie-shaped blur streaking toward me at her fastest possible speed carrying a gleeful grin and delivering an enormous hug.  That alone would have been worth the trip.

Then at 6:39 pm, as we sped down Peña Boulevard out of the airport, Sophie asked from the back seat, “Ben goes back home now?”

Apparently, even after all the excitement in advance of my visit, she would have been perfectly happy with a 21 minute appearance.

Of course, this did nothing to lessen her reaction as we sped back down Peña Boulevard on the return trip.  The moment the terminal drifted into view she adopted the same facial expression one would use after being slapped hard in the face and then kicked repeatedly in the shin.

An obviously fake yet earnest attempt at crying then lasted until we pulled up to the curb.  That’s when she changed tactics.  She just refused all offers of a hug goodbye, and to ward off any possibility of a goodbye kiss she even covered her mouth with her hand.

It turns out 21 minutes isn’t long enough after all, but I definitely feel appreciated

Swing and a Miss

Sophie walks into the kitchen to see a mop out – evidence that the floors were cleaned earlier.

Sophie: (excited) My turn to clean!

Mommy: Hmm… do you want to help mommy clean your room?

Sophie: (indignant) No!