Saturday, March 11, 2006

The interminable cuteness that is my daughter Helena

1. The way she says D is for Don Quixote, H is for "moi."

2. We go "see animals in the park." She ushers us into our bedroom, stopping in front of the cat at the foot of the bed, pointing out the sharp teeth on this wild tiger. Next stop, the giraffe, played by her stuffed elephant, which is sitting next to her stuffed giraffe.

This morning's safari featured snakes, grasshoppers, and spiders.

3. The way she governs her little entourage of dolls. She has taken on the role of educatrice to them, so once they're tucked in for naptime, she sits nearby and scribbles notes on their behaviour, appetite, and bowel movements.

4. She asks to watch her stupid Caillou Christmas movie en espanol, evidently tired of both the French and English versions. (I offered Spanish as an option one day and apparently it made an impression. Warning: Caillou's Spanish mommy can't sing — she makes me want to tear off my fingernails.)

(Can I get Caillou in Polish?)

5. The way she knows when I'm losing patience with her. She bats her eyelashes and makes kissy faces at me. It's my kryptonite. All stern disciplinary resolve dissolves into laughter.

6. She carries with her everywhere one of my itty-bitty book lites (though neither of the two contraptions I own actually goes by that trademarked name), with the unfortunate result that my attempts to read in bed are generally thwarted by spent batteries.
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