Just call me "Rock."
This blog is supposed to be about dairy issues, but it's more fun to talk about my child and her little eccentricities...if you could call it that.
On Monday she will be 5 years old. Sometimes I wonder if the things she does are normal or if a psychiatrist would find her a little off.
I guess pretending is normal; especially when you are an only child with no other playmates.
Lately she has been doing this roll playing thing where she asserts that she is no longer Ellen, but "Brionna" (who is actually a new girl at church)
and then she will ask me about Ellen; what's her favorite color, food...etc. She will continue in this vein for half hour or so. Woe betide me should I forget and refer to her as "Ellen."
When I am in the kitchen she generally refers to me as, "Mr Bakery Owner." She will come up to me and announce; "Hey there, Mr Bakery Owner, I am taking Charlie (the stuffed dog) for a walk. Just thought we'd stop in and say hello." Or she will just tell me whatever is going on, help with the dishes or cooking.
When we are out in the milk barn doing our chores she calls me "Rock" and pretends that we are in a train station. Do not ask me where she gets this one. "Hey, Rock, where is our next stop?"
Some other things she does make me laugh too.
While helping do the dishes she will sort the flatware in the holder; "The boys go over here, the girls go over there." The "boys" are the forks and the "girls" are the spoons.
On Monday she will be 5 years old. Sometimes I wonder if the things she does are normal or if a psychiatrist would find her a little off.
I guess pretending is normal; especially when you are an only child with no other playmates.
Lately she has been doing this roll playing thing where she asserts that she is no longer Ellen, but "Brionna" (who is actually a new girl at church)
and then she will ask me about Ellen; what's her favorite color, food...etc. She will continue in this vein for half hour or so. Woe betide me should I forget and refer to her as "Ellen."
When I am in the kitchen she generally refers to me as, "Mr Bakery Owner." She will come up to me and announce; "Hey there, Mr Bakery Owner, I am taking Charlie (the stuffed dog) for a walk. Just thought we'd stop in and say hello." Or she will just tell me whatever is going on, help with the dishes or cooking.
When we are out in the milk barn doing our chores she calls me "Rock" and pretends that we are in a train station. Do not ask me where she gets this one. "Hey, Rock, where is our next stop?"
Some other things she does make me laugh too.
While helping do the dishes she will sort the flatware in the holder; "The boys go over here, the girls go over there." The "boys" are the forks and the "girls" are the spoons.
Comments