See Part One here.

June

Ruthie: I WANNA WATCH DIEGO IN MOMMY’S BED!
Me: Are you the boss around here or something?
Ruthie: Nooooo.
Me: Who’s the boss around here?
Ruthie, grinning: I don’t know.
Me: Who’s in charge?
Ruthie: YOU!
Me: I am? What am I in charge of?
Ruthie: Ummmm…Daddy!

Chalupa, Ruthie, and I are lying in bed watching Diego. She is sick. I’m smoothing her hair with my hand.
Me: Ruthie, you’re so sweet.
Ruthie: (unintelligible)
Me: What?
Ruthie: Rush Limbaugh* is GROSS.**
Me: Yes, that’s true. What made you think of that?
Ruthie, with a big sigh: I don’t know.
*pronounced “Wush Leembaugh.”
**Of course I have taught her this, but I don’t know why she thought to bring it up right this moment.

Me: You need to go to sleep so we can go to church in the morning.
Ruthie: No, Grandma’s house.
Me: We’ll go to Grandma’s house after church.
Ruthie: For the party?
Me: Yep.
Ruthie: OH! THERE WILL BE CARROTS?
Me: At the party?
Ruthie: Yes!
Me: I think there will be carrots.
Ruthie: Oh, yay! And food?
Me: Definitely food.
Ruthie: AND LETTUCE?
Me: Lettuce, too, probably.
Ruthie: I’ve loved lettuce before!

July

Ruthie, to her stuffed frog: “Go to sleep, Fwog. I love you. I’ll be wight back. I have to go check somethin. If you need me, you can call me. I’ll come wight back. Good night, Fwog.”

In the past ten days, I have only spent one night at home, and only two nights with Ruthie. When she woke from her nap and found that I was back, she jumped up and said, “I MISSED YOU! HERE’S GIWAFFE! LOOK AT MY TONGUE! I GOT YOU SOME WATERMELON!”

A selection of Ruthie’s Tour de France commentary:
“Those bikes fall down.”
“Those people fall down in dirt.”
“That guy is sick. He needs a band-aid.”
“There bad guys in Tour de Fwance.”
“That’s a mountain? That’s where pandas live!”
“IS THAT MITT WOMNEY?”
“Let’s watch somethin’ else.”

Me: Ruthie, last night I had a dream that I made a giant TARDIS cake! But when I woke up, I was sad because it wasn’t real.
Ruthie: It wasn’t real? You were sad?
Me: Yeah. Do you ever have dreams?
Ruthie: Mmm-hmmm.
Me: What do you dream about?
Ruthie: I dweam I make giant TAWDIS cake and it not real, so I sad.

Advertisements