Kids say the darnedest things

I thought Gracie used to say funny things. Other kids are constantly saying “Why?” When she was two and we’d be out in public she’d keep pointing to people and asking “Who’s that guy? Who’s ‘dat guy?”

Just before Christmas I took her to the doctor in Denison for an awful cough. It was actually a funny story to begin with. The earliest they could see her was “sometime after three.” I took my last hour class off so that I could leave school early. I called the babysitter to let her know I’d be picking Grace up around 2:30.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” said Judy Bockeman, Gracie’s babysitter, “Santa was going to come about 2:45.”

“Oh, well, I hate to be a Grinch, but Grace’s seen him several times this season already, that’s just the way it’s gotta be,” I sighed.

No problem, the Dunlap highway is no L.A. freeway- it has no lights and almost no traffic. Except that this day some farmer was moving at least 30 head of cattle along the highway. A couple of pick-ups, a couple of four-runners, at a cow’s pace.

So she got to see Santa because I didn’t get there till ten after three. Well, we got to the doctors’ by 3:40 and didn’t get in till 4:30, but that’s the way doctor appointments go, right?

My point was, I had almost a half hour alone in the van with one of my kids, so I tried my best to spark up a conversation. I asked her about Santa.

She told me he drives a blue pick-up. “What about his sleigh?” I asked her, “Does he pull the sleigh with the pick-up or do the reindeer pull the pick-up?”
“No, silly!” she protested, “That’s only on Christmas Eve!”
“What is, the pick-up?” I asked.
“No, da sleigh is only on Christmas Eve, da rest of da time he drives a bwoo pick-up!” she explained.

Evidently Santa only rides the fire truck to the Commercial club’s Santa Claus Night.
Anyway, I used to think that Gracie said funny things, like when she scolds our cat, she calls him “King Neddermeyer!” Apparently he doesn’t have a middle name or I’m sure she’d use it too.
I used to think that Gracie said funny things, but now her little sister Ellie has become a chatterbox.
One night she was dipping her green beans in her catsup as if they were French fries. “Mmmmm, yum!” she said.
“Is that good?” I asked.
She paused, looked at the green bean in her hand and wrinkled up her little brow, finally she protested-
“Dat not a ‘good,’ dat’s a BEAN!”
I understand why she calls her Grandma Marge “Mawdgie.” I THINK I can understand that she calls her Great-Grandma Laura “Mawdgie,” I just hope she doesn’t call my Mom that the next time she sees her.
What I don’t get is why she calls Grace “Helwen.”
“No, no honey,” we try to explain to her “YOUR name is ‘Ellen,’ her name is ‘Gracie,’ can you say ‘Gracie?’”
“Gwacie,” she’ll say.
“Good, that’s good, now what’s HER name?” we’ll ask and point to Grace.
“Helwen!”
It’s crazy, I’ll say “Ellen, please go get your sister ‘Grace,’ supper’s ready.” and invariably, she’ll start calling “HELWEN! Suppa’s weady!...Where’s Helwen?” I just don’t get it.
The cutest story my cheerleaders love to hear me tell was when I was cleaning the kitchen the night before her birthday party.
“Da-aad, what doing?” asked Ellie.
“I’m cleaning” I answered.
“Why?”
“Uh, because we want the house to look nice,” I said.
“Why?” she pursued further.
“Because we’re going to have people over,” I continued.
“Why?”
“Because it’s your birthday! We’re having a party, you’re going to be TWO!” I said, hoping to see her get excited.
In stead she paused and crunched up her little brow for almost half a minute, finally she waved her hand at me, frowned and protested- “No, YOU’RE TWO!”