I was recently babysitting for a friend’s daughter, an adorable little 2-year-old elf who can spell her 3-syllable last name perfectly.  She reminds me of a corporate executive in miniature with bulbous pig-tale buns, marching around the house and calling me by my last name.Â
“Thompson! Excuse me! What does this toy do?”
“Hey THOMPSON! Excuse me! Where are you?”
I spent the morning laughing at her polite attempts at dictatorship and asking her to spell things and coach Magoo at football.
At one point she and Magoo got into a tiff about something in which one was yelling yes and the other was yelling no. They stood about 5 inches apart, hollering at each other until they forgot whose job it was to say “yes” and who was rooting for “no” to win.Â
Half an hour later, I was called onto the field or into the boardroom or whatever.Â
Olive: Thompson! Who’s in that picture?”
Me: Me and Laylee’s Dad.
Olive: What are you doing?
Me:Â We’re drinking soda.
Olive:Â But what are you doing, Thompson?
Me:Â Drinking soda.
Olive: No. You’re kissing.
Me:Â No we’re not.
Olive: Yes. You’re kissing.
Me:Â No. [pulling the picture down]Â See, we’re just drinking soda from two straws that are very close together.
Olive [eyeing the photo suspiciously]:Â O-kaaay.
Then she was off with purposeful steps, her hair bouncing sweetly behind her. My word! I need to get me a kid like that. Acutally, I don’t need a kid like that. I think I would die from the cuteness.Â
Then Laylee punched her in the face. I really hope her mom doesn’t mind large red facial welts. She could have fallen asleep on her arm. Sometimes that leaves a mark. Ayayay.
I do want to point out my favorite parts of this picture, the parts no one notices, the reasons I still keep it framed in my front room.
#1 — The tadpole — This picture was taken right after I peed on a stick, saw a double pink line for the first time and announced it to my entire family. What could be more romantic than that? I bet you’d share a soda in public too if it happened to you.
#2 — This guy — He would not share a soda. I love the horrified look on his face. “Are they kissing? At an outdoor theater? Does this lawn chair come with a vomit receptacle?”
I now close my eyes tightly, throw a penny in our backyard puddle and wish that guy was available to make facial commentary in the background of all our family photos.Â
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