Our normal routine around here is for me to watch Quicksilver early in the morning and then hand her off to Mrs ERJ sometime between 9:00 and 10:00.
Yesterday, as soon as Mrs ERJ tagged in, Quicksilver REALLY wanted to go outside. I heard her jabbering at Mrs ERJ a mile-a-minute as the door closed.
A few minutes later, they came back in. Mrs ERJ approached me and and said, "Quicksilver told me you gave her "the look"."
I admitted as much. "When we started the applesauce I told her that she needed to move when I told her to move because the kettles could be filled with boiling water...and tripping over her wouldn't do either one of us any good."
"Then, when I told her to move...she didn't. So I gave her the look."
Mrs ERJ nodded. "That is what she said."
"She also demonstrated the look" Mrs ERJ said. "Quicksilver, come over here and show Grandpa "the look"."
Quicksilver stood in front of me, tipped her head forward and tilted it just a little bit. Her lips compressed into a thin line and she slightly flared her eyelids into a glare and locked me in a frozen eye-roll tipped just a little bit left-of-center. Her eyebrows came together in a thunderous frown.
It was the look of a school marm whose last strand of patience had vaporized and she was about to introduce naughty Johnny to The Corporal and The Board of Education.
"Is that the look I gave you?" I asked.
Vigorous nodding followed.
How do three-year-olds do that?
It is a mystery to me how three-year-olds can reproduce those "looks" with such fidelity. It isn't like they practice in front of mirrors. It is something they just know. For example, I have a beard. There is no way she could have seen my lips. How did she know?
Joy is contagious
Laughing out loud.
ReplyDeleteOur mini-mees often surprise.
Thanks for the morning chuckle ERJ.
ReplyDeleteI had a historic house once 20 minutes down the road. Garden in back. I would take my twins, boy and girl (between 4 and 6), and garden. Inevitably the van with the individual of questionable appearance would enter the block playing music. Told my twins the truck plays music when they are out of ice cream. Buddy with an equal penchant for historic houses you can never finish told me "Be careful, those are the people that will pick your nursing home." And we would eventually wander over to main street and get some ice cream but from a shop not a van. Roger
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