Emmy is full of surprises. If it isn’t her figuring out how to unlock the backdoor or open a jar we previously thought impenetrable to toddlers, it’s her spongy brain. She is learning everything.
Some things are good. Nay, great. Our little thesaurus is testing her verbal might daily using new phases and big words she’s heard in books. I might even say she’s verbose at times. The latest was when she was making up a story about a zebra in trouble and she muttered, “I gasped!” Jess and I both looked at one another quizzically. I knew she’d heard it from a Minnie and Daisy story involving watching a scary movie at a sleepover, and I’m sure it’s in tons of other stories too (anecdote: books use “I cried” far too often when trying to think of another way to say “I said”).
Then some things are not so good. Like when dad is driving home for dinner after picking up Emmy from her school. We describe certain drivers as “going turtle speed” and Emmy even, at times, suggests I honk at them. Possibly even insinuates I should yell out the window. Not that I’ve ever done that. Yes, our daughter has developed some road rage and some backseat driving.
I’m certainly starting to watch myself now.