A typical family conversation:
Kaya singing “Sun Away, Oh Sun Away, Ohhh Sun Away, Sun Away…”
Moody Chick (MC) “What is she saying?”
Bal “I don’t know but it’s funny.”
Kaya “SUN AWAY OH OH OH SUN AWAY…”
Bal “I think she’s singing ‘Sun Away’?”
MC “What song is this Kaya? Did you learn it at daycare?”
Bal “I think she’s making it up herself!”
MC “If she is, she really is a goth child. Now she wants to live in darkness? Sun away? Are you mad child?”
Kaya “SUUUUNNNNN AAWWWAAAYYYYY!”
Bal “Hmmm, yup, she’s totally making it up on her own. Goth or not, I think she’s a genius. 2.5 years old and composing her own music!”
Whereby Kaya abruptly stops singing, squats her little tooshie down in the middle of the living room floor and yells “I’M HAVIN A POOP!”
Have I mentioned my latest pregnancy ailment of rashy armpits? Yes? Well imagine my poor family…
Moody Chick scratching madly away at her pits wryly blurts to Bal “Will you lick my armpits? I think it will help.” Pout, pout, sob, sob.
Bal rolls his eyes in disgust and complete boredom at the neverending rash talk.
20 minutes later Kaya walks up to me, arms high in the air and in all seriousness asks “Lick armpits pease mommy?”
Like she had totally been missing out on something for the last 2.5 years. Sigh.
“Colour baby belly?” Kaya asks as she does every night.
“Sure baby. Oh, great, black again. Yay. And you want spiderman on there? And a monster? Shocker.”
I draw them (with less and less enthusiasm as the nightly ritual continues) until she wants her turn and scribbles madly overtop my works of art. Then she surprises me. She mixes it up a little.
“Colour boobies mommy?!”
“Ummm, no, you can not draw on my boobies love.”
Whereby she prompty lifts up her own shirt and draws delightful twirlies and swirls all over her own lil nipples.
She smiles up at me knowing she has been mischevious but also knowing that mommy is just a tiny bit jealous at this new-found body art.