Maeve has definite ideas about where and when the adults around her should go places. And although she isn't articulate enough yet to ask me to go play ball with her in her bedroom, she has mastered the art of getting me there. She grabs my hand, and lets me know she's grabbing it: "Fingahs, fingahs."
She actually can say an R at the end of some words, but when she says Fingahs, she sounds like she's from South Boston, like the Good Will Hunting characters. And I always reassure her, Yup, those are my fingers, honey, where are we going? But it doesn't matter, because I'll get there. Once she grabs my hand, there's really no getting out of it.
She has no patience for how long it takes for a grown woman to get up off the ground, either, I'll tell you that much. She keeps tugging on my fingahs till my slow body responds to her whim.
The really entertaining part of being led around by an almost-two-year-old is that she often forgets what she brought me in for. She will drag me to her room, look around as if she doesn't quite recall where we are, and then dash off somewhere else, often forgetting to trail me along.
That's okay, little bean, my fingahs and my attention are all yours, we can go wherever you want.
On the bright side we get a lot of exercise from all the squatting into her tent, crawling out, getting back up, and then put back in there.
ReplyDeleteI forget where I'm going all.the.time. I feel ya kiddo!
ReplyDeleteToo cute. That is all.
ReplyDeleteIt's the most enjoyable workout I've ever had.
ReplyDelete