The previous Shabbat did not disappoint in the promise of the gorgeous spring weather. So, after our respective afternoon naps, yours truly and Mini Me went to pay a round of social calls. In case you are wondering who Mini Me is, that reference belongs to my niece. You see, her parents agreed long time ago that she definitely looks like our side of the family, and then, few months after that first verdict, the second verdict went out: she looks like her favorite aunt more than she does like her Mama.
Anyway, the outing proved to be an absolute delight. Towards the end of it, she got understandably tired and requested to be carried in my warm embrace, but reluctantly accepted the reminder that it was Shabbat, and I could only hold her hand. In order to distract her more, I kept pointing out interesting sights. One of these pointers proved to be slightly traumatic.
Her "sosy" (pacifier) remains a big part of her life. So, for some idiotic reason (or the lack of it), I have pointed out to her somebody's lost pacifier by the curb. Oy, gevalt! I keep praising her intelligence to all who is willing or unwilling to listen, so, the reason for my own slip up is that much more annoying, especially considering the fact that her brother owns a pair of pacifiers, one orange, one blue, and that one lying in the dirt was a dead ringer for the blue one. Anyway, she recognized the blinking pacifier immediately:"Baby lost his sosy!" "No, cookie, that's somebody's else's." "No, is baby's!" "No, baby's is an orange one." "Is baby's!! Baby has blue!! Is baby's!"
She was getting more and more agitated. She insisted on rescuing the stupid piece of plastic; I told her that it was too dirty for saving; she did not budge. Finally, I persuaded her to go home and check with Mama to make sure that it was not, in fact, baby's sosy. She agreed, but under duress. As soon as we walked into the house, she ran to Mama with distressed screams of "baby lost his sosy!" It took Mama about five minutes of patient explanations and demonstrations to finally satisfy our Golden Delicious. Ah, the burdens of being the oldest sister!
1 comment:
Grin. It looks even better in writing.
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