The little genius
10:30am and it was TV time after her morning shower. Doughnut and I were watching (read: drooling at) Tim of Hi-5 Australia when my husband’s mobile phone rang. His royal highness decided to take the call just right next to us, talking so ever loudly about a friend who was hospitalized and plans to visit him. I was irritated; Doughnut was irritated. Difference is, she did something about it while I didn’t.
She got up from my lap, reached for the TV remote and walked towards her Papi. Next thing we knew, she pointed the TV remote at him and went “sshhhhh…..”, while her chubby little finger was pressing the ‘volume down’ button.
I think I’ll enroll her into baby Mensa. And tell them her IQ is maternally inherited.
It’s a plane? It’s a bird?
After dinner, it was reading time for Doughnut.
“Babe, can you keep an eye on little girl while I do the dishes?”
“You got it. Come darling, let Papi read your story book with you.”
10 seconds later, kitchen door opens.
“What’s the name of Goofy’s dog?”
Another 10 seconds later, kitchen door opens again.
“Why don’t I do the dishes while you rest?”
“Mickey Minnie Donald Daisy Goofy Pluto. Which one did you forget again?”
“None. Doughnut is about to cry because I think my story is different from the one you usually tell her.”