The Texting Two Year Old

Maren is a techie kid. She gets it from me. Brynna is six and has just in the last couple of months figured out talking on the phone. She still couldn't call 911. She won't learn the send button. But Maren, wow. She can work the remote (something that Brynna doesn't do), she can make phone calls and send text messages, she plays games on my mom's fancy-schmancy touch screeny smart phone. And she gets it. She understands that when you send a text, it appears on another person's phone and then they can send you a text back. If you really want to make those little gray eyes sparkle, show her a shiny new electronic toy.

Most of her texts look something like this: aldskfjl    powlehcolasdi;;;;;;;alkdkleicsekwenfkvk

Because no matter how smart she is, she still can't read or write. The interesting thing is that now she's figured out who can.

Maren's babysitter, the incomprable MiMi, master of the universe, and I text each other throughout the day. This morning, for instance, she informed me that all the clothes in the bag that I send for the week were pajamas. (Which means that the bag of clothes I packed is in the living room floor and this is the bag of pajamas she packed for me on Friday. That's only slightly embarrassing.*)

In any case, Maren now requests daily that MiMi text me and ask who is picking her up. ** So, every afternoon I get a text asking who is picking her up and I reply with whatever the answer is. Pretty much it's me. And if it's not, I try to make it Papaw, because I hate for anyone else to have to deal with the crushing blow of nonexcitement.

Maren has also suddenly turned against baths. I don't know why, but apparently it is only the baths that I give. She doesn't freak out when MiMi gives her a bath or when NiNi gives her a bath, or when MawMaw gives her a bath. Just me.

Also known as Sheepdog.

So, as a follow up to the typical, who's coming today question, I received the following:

"She also wants to know if it's bath night tonight. She doesn't want one...."

When I responded that it was, MiMi asked if I wanted her to do it before I pick her up.*** As tempted as I was, I responded that no, I feel like she's got to get used to the idea that this is going to happen and happen often.

The moral of today's story is that technology is a great thing, but not nearly as great a thing as finding a minion to use it for you. And, I suppose, when you are this cute, there is always a minion to be found.

* It's not. It's totally and completely embarrassing. It says, "Hey, you know, I just left that laying around all weekend and never even looked at it. In fact, most weeks, I just pull pajamas out of there one day at a time, instead of doing the grown-up thing and unpacking the bag into her dresser. Because I am lazy. And you, well, you are the amazing woman who keeps my kid and does her freakin' laundry."


**Because she wants Papaw. She never wants me. I am always a disappointment. I try not to take it personally.


***Listen, peoples, I just want everyone to know, I want to say it right here on the internet for all the world to see - I do not pay this woman enough money. If I handed over my entire paycheck twice a month, she would still be underpaid. I adore her.