From the back of the car

In the car of Ella’s best friend’s mother on our way to see a Dora the Explorer live show, Ella and best friend were having a (very loud) conversation on the back seat.

I heard Ella say things like: “And at my home, I can play a little while when my mum cooks dinner. And then I get my plate and I go and sit at the little table in the loungeroom and I watch Dora while I eat my dinner.” Of course I had to immediately let best friend’s mum know that that really only happened occasionally and I braced myself when Ella launched into another “And at our home…” confession.

Then we had to pay a parking attendant for parking and Ella from the back seat loudly demanded to know: “Why are you asking us to give you money?!” I tried to shush her and then I heard her – still very loudly – say to her friend that “maybe the man’s ears don’t hear very well”. Cringe!

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Yesterday in our car driving home from the shops, I was grumbling to Ella about the lady who assisted us when we bought a vacuum cleaner and who obviously hates her job. I added that I personally wouldn’t enjoy working in a shop either, that I thought it wasn’t a very enjoyable job and that I hoped that she’ll get a better job than that when she’s a grown-up. So I asked her:

Me – What would you like to do for work when you’re a grown-up? There’s heaps of things you could do. You could be a nurse or a doctor, making sick people better…
Ella – I want to go to your work.
Me – Oh, no! You want to work at a computer?
Ella – Yes!

I’m a public servant. Admin staff. Really not the kind of thing you aspire to when you’re growing up and not the kind of dream you have for your child when you think about their career prospects.

Me – There are much nicer jobs you could do. You could be a vet?
Ella – No! I want to go to your work!
Me – Or a pilot?
Ella – No! I want to go to your work!
Me – Fire truck driver?
Ella – I want to go to your wooooork!
Me – You could really work at better places than where I work.
Ella – But then you wouldn’t be there.
Me – Oh sweetie, by the time you start working, I probably won’t work at the same place anymore.
Ella – But you will!

I decided to leave it at that for now, even if the thought of having her work alongside me when I’m in my 50s spooked me somewhat.

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Toilet paper trees

I told Ella about being a bit scared of walking under old trees with the gale force wind yesterday afternoon.

Ella – I saw them cut down a big tree at the creche once.
Me – Oh yeah? Who cut it down?
Ella – A big strong man.
Me – Right.
Ella – Toilet paper comes from trees.
Me – That’s right, they make toilet paper from trees.
Ella – They’re going to have to cut down another tree at the creche soon.
Me – Oh yeah? Why do they need to cut it down?
Ella – Because the creche is running out of toilet paper.

I think it was mainly the delightful predictability as well as the serious way in which she said it that made me laugh out loud. But it was the frown that appeared on her forehead and the indignant tone in her voice when she said: “Stop laughing, mum!” that ended up turning a loud belly laugh into uncontrollable fits of laughter. I only just managed to sputter that her telling me to stop laughing always made me want to laugh even harder, but she kept looking at me with barely disguised vexation until I’d wiped the last tears off my cheeks.

Nothing like an ultra-logical preschooler for some comic relief!

Little Miss Bossy

I invited the 4yo boy from across the road to come play with Ella on Saturday, thinking that she might stop demanding my attention so I wouldn’t have to interrupt my work and/or yell at her to stop yelling at me.

As it turned out, Ella was so bossy to him, that I ended up having to referee most of the time he was there. So I ended up getting this gem from him:

Me – Ella’s very bossy, isn’t she?
Boy – Yes. Even my mum isn’t that bossy.

This one will definitely be used in any potential future wedding speech!

I know what you did at daycare

Yesterday when I picked Ella up from daycare, I found her with 3 other girls digging in the dirt in a corner of the garden.

These were the same sweet little girls whom that same day I’d overheard having a conversation about their favourite colours being purple and pink and observed playing with fairy dolls with rainbow wings and light-up tiaras.

When I approached the 4 angelic looking creatures Ella told me:

– We’re in a boat because the whole world has turned into blood!

The other girls nodded affirmatively.

I slowly backed away and fled to the kitchen.