Putting the "MO" in MOFO since 2004

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Friday, October 07, 2005

 

Her mother's daughter after all.

Last week Madge and I spent about 20 minutes sitting in the middle of the floor in the living room sharing my mineral water. Maggie would look at me wide eyed with anticipation as I took a sip. Then I would give her a taste. Each time her expression shifted from hopeful expectation to gleeful shock as she took a mouthful and the bubbles tingled her tongue. Then she waggled her tongue down her chin, and let the mineral water stream from the sides of her mouth to dribble down to the front of her shirt.

We repeated this about 15 times before it grew a bit tedious. Then I slugged the rest of the water and handed her the plastic bottle to play with. After expressing her frustration that there was no bubble water left and trying in exasperation to extract the few remaining drops, she resigned herself to walking around the house with the empty bottle dangling from her mouth.

A few days later I grabbed a bottle of the same water from the fridge while Maggie was eating dinner in her high chair. My mind was elsewhere and I was pulled out of my daydream by her squeals of sheer and utter desperation. She was frantic to get my attention.

“MMMMM! MMMMMMM! MMMMM!” She willed. “MMMMM! MMMMMMM! MMMMM!”

She stared, focused on my bottle of water. She gazed with the concentration of a telekinetic. She was trying with all her might to pull the bottle out of my hand and to her mouth using only her eyes. She bore holes into the plastic with her mere willpower.

She had caught me red handed. I complied with her demands and shared some with her.

That was only the beginning. Now she follows me around whenever she spots me with food. “MMMMM! MMMMM! MMMMMM!” looking up at me intently until I give up the goods.

If we ever forget to lock up the pantry doors, she’s rummaging around in there within 30 seconds flat. She emerges, triumphant with the box of Ritz crackers and holds them up proudly to show me. “MMMM! MMMMM! MMMM!” She beams as I pull out a cracker and hand it to her. Then she toddles off to leave her half eaten cracker on the bathroom floor.

I have to hand it to her. She’s got talent. She is thirteen months old and already knows how to find and obtain the goodies.

And we are working on the telekinesis thing. Boy howdy, THAT could really come in handy.

This of course, is coming from the author of this blog, who hid bags of chocolate chips under her bed when she was a child. I am told I had the same talent for sniffing out anything containing chocolate or sugar. And anything salty or crunchy for that matter. No matter how high the cupboard, I would scale the obstacles and emerge, covered in soot and cobwebs, from the heights and depths of the kitchen with the package in hand.

She looks so much like her father that even I wonder sometimes how it’s possible that we are related by blood. I can now rest easy with the knowledge that she is in fact, my daughter. What a relief.

2 Comments:

Blogger missjackie said...

Too funny Meghan!

9:00 AM  
Blogger Crystal said...

Must be fun having a little mini-me! ;-)

8:02 PM  

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