Did I ever tell you, my dear internetly friends, that I’m somewhat of a nanny? I hate to say nanny, because it brings forth images of mean British women with glasses on the ends of their noses who are far too stern with children who aren’t their own for my taste.

But for these purposes, we’ll call me a nanny.

Every Monday and Friday I watch 2 little girls who are sisters,  and quite a trip to say the very least.

M is the oldest and 3 (“…but I’m almost 4 in June, Aunt Fancythis….” I would have just been reminded) going on 16. Seriously. The kid is stinkin’ brilliant, and more often than not, I catch myself in the middle of an argument with her before I realize that she’s three and I’m the boss around here. We but heads more frequently than the little one and I because M and I are the exact same person with a 20 year age gap. I love her though. Even when she rolls her eyes at me as an indicator that I’ve totally just told her something that she already knew and has known for at least a year. Because as much as we but heads there’s nothing that melts my heart quicker than “Aunt Fancythis?” “Yes, hon?” “I love you.”

K is the little one. She’s spunky and sweet and has learned very quickly in her first 2 years that if she wants anything in this life she’s gonna have to be that much smarter and faster than her big sister. (which ain’t no easy task man) However, if it weren’t for the necessity of survival of the fittest in her life, she would be the sweetest little thing you’ve ever met. Her natural tendencies are to lean toward the sweet behavior, but she has to snap out of it every once in a while. She’s the one who, after we prayed before breakfast the other day, reminded me in a fit of panic “Aunt Fancythis!!! We f’got pay foh’ Unk Luke!” (Loosly translated, “We forgot to pray for Uncle Luke!”) I know, right? An angel.

So one of our favorite activities (besides going to the mall and throwing my pennies into the fountain while singing, them, not me, church worship songs) is to play on their play-doh table. We’re sitting there playing today, when for some unknown reason, a Christmas song popped into my head. I started humming it, and then realized that I wouldn’t be facing the judgement that often comes from an adult toward one who sings without talent because I was with kids for pete’s sake.

So I started singing. Out loud.

I should mention that while I’m no Celine Dione, I ain’t too shabby either. I can carry a tune, I’ve just never had the interest to go beyond that and so my voice is, shall we say, untrained.

I then heard M say:

“Aunt Fancythis, can you please stop singing?”

“Why?” (yes, that was my response, she brings it out of me)

“Because,” she said “I don’t like your voice.”


6 Responses to “kids”

  1. 1 R. January 25, 2008 at 5:36 pm

    So, you just declared your brilliance in this post. Very interesting.

  2. 2 girlymama January 25, 2008 at 5:49 pm

    my kids say that to me too…..

  3. 4 lifelemons January 28, 2008 at 11:03 am

    Makayla gets me with this all the time, I will find myself arguing with her until I realize, “Shit, I’m the adult here!” Then the conversation/arguement will get quickly ended with a “I will spank you if you don’t stop being a sass-mouth!”

    Did R mean you are showing your brilliance by arguing with a child? Me confused.

  4. 5 DDTM January 28, 2008 at 1:00 pm

    If I knew, when you were 16, that all it took to get you to stop doing things was to have a 3 year old ask you, I would have used that tactic instead of trying to convince you that I was right. :)

  1. 1 a day in the life…. « sunny side of life Trackback on April 29, 2008 at 9:11 pm

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