Yesterday the whole family went to the pool. The prices were outrageous, the food was crazy expensive and there were things floating in the water. The kids had a blast. Actually, so did we. I just took a really good shower after that. On the way home, Sebbie and Abby sat next to each other in the car. Casey and I usually are smarter than this. A two year old and a three year old, next to each other in the back seat and kinda tired from playing like fiends all day: what does that spell? T-R-O-U-B-L-E! So I hear the sounds of spitting from the back and I yell over my shoulder, “HEY!” You know, that’s the warning shot into the air. These kids are way to young and dumb to really get the warning shot. Sebbie is a little smarter, older, and you would hope… wiser. Not so after a long day of play and a bratty cousin next to him. She is spitting and spitting and the mommy’s are to engrossed in conversation to turn around and figure out who is doing the spitting and who needs to be yelled at and a possibly put in time out. (How the heck are you supposed to do time out when they are strapped into a car seat?!)
Seb finally turns to what he sees as his best option: He tattles. “He’s spitting at me, Auntie Callie.” (Seb calls everyone “he.” There is no gender distinction quite yet… that to be dealt with later.) I turn and look at my daughter with fire in my eyes.
That’s one. I turn back around and resume mommy talk.
“HEY! CUT IT OUT!”
That’s two. I slowly turn back to the front, making it clear that I WILL TURN AROUND AGAIN!
I have to get them this time, I turn just in time to see Seb spit at Abby.
“SEBBIE!” He jumps a mile high. He knows he’s been caught because his little tongue is still hanging out. “If you don’t want her to spit at you, don’t spit at her.” (Hoping he gets that “her” is referring to Abby.)
Without me even turning back around, Abby spits at Seb. He gives me that mouth open see-what-she’s-doing? look.
“Abby! Are you out your mind?” Yes, I actually said this to my two year old who ACTUALLY shook her head no like No, Mommy. My mind is totally in place.
“Abby, if you don’t want him to spit at you, don’t spit at him.”
I kid you not, she actually says, “But I wan spit a Sebbie…” in a whinny voice like, You have just ruined our fun!
“You may NOT spit at Sebbie.”
“Spit a chee-air?”
“No, don’t spit at anything!”
“Spit a Abby?”
How do you explain the word “anything” or “nothing” to a two year old?
From here until we reached home there was a string of questions about what she could and could not spit at with her naming a random noun and Mommy getting more and more frustrated as Auntie Casey giggled about the fact that she had already been through this a year ago and now someone else was suffering.
“Abby, stop spitting!”
“But… I wan too…” I have ruined her world.