Saturday, September 29, 2012

Kisses and Catfish

Olive has a ridiculous habit.  She has done this since she learned to talk.  It is her way of whining, of complaining, of just letting us all know that the words that she is saying should be taken in the grumpiest way possible.  She speaks words, but they sound like, well, a catfish.  If anyone has ever fished for catfish, you know that they "talk".  It is creepy and just plain disturbing to hear.  Olive makes this croaking sound with her throat as she cr-o-a-k-s the words out.  I   w-a-n-t   c-h-o-c-o-l-a-t-e   m-i-i-i-i-i-l-k-k-k-k.  It's absurd.

The other morning, Jeff was leaving for work at the crack of dawn and, of course, our little early riser was up.  She gets up before the sun, stomping through the house in the dark, speaking at volume 11, announcing that she has to pee-pee, and demanding for food, drink, and entertainment.  "You need to get uuuupppppp!"  To make matters worse, she chooses one phrase, like "I need Dora" and then repeats it, in the same tone and at the same speed... over. and. over.  Gah.  On this particular morning, Olive was even up early enough to see Daddy before he left for his long commute.

Jeff asked Olive for kisses, repeatedly.  "N-o-o-o", she croaked in her grumpy-frog-catfish voice.  He insisted, "Come give me some kisses!".  She informed him that he would be unsuccessful.  "NO!  I will kiss MYSELF!"  He continued, telling her that he wanted lots and lots of kisses.  Obviously, she has some negotiation skills, as she gave just a little.  "NOT lots of kisses." she said, firmly.  "Only two."


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