So I just went to pick Laylee up from our co-op preschool. When I got there, she was nowhere to be found. The mother in charge, we’ll call her Too Lucy (all my friends have the same names), she told me that Laylee was upstairs with her son, we’ll call him Big Moses (all her male friends have biblical names but none of them are Moses so I think I’ll call them all Moses from now on).
Supposedly they were playing a game where they were pretending to be each other. Big Moses was tucking her in his bed and she was calling him Laylee.
I walked up there and found her in her birthday suit (desperately trying to avoid using “questionable keywords” here) with Big Moses helping her to put on his underwear. I guess they wanted to be each other from the inside out.
I let her keep them on and we headed home. She is very proud to be wearing “Big Moses Pants.” For some reason, I cannot stop laughing when she mentions this, which is probably why she cannot stop mentioning it.
I love using fake names on this blog. It makes everything seem so dramatic somehow, like we’re all in the witness protection program.
It reminds me of the time I made a short documentary about some guys running a pirate radio station out of their bedroom at BYU, not exactly a hotbed of illegal activity. I think their broadcast radius was around 10 feet but they were really proud to be bringing “indie music to the people.”
They wouldn’t use their real names and conducted their entire interviews wearing Strong Bad-style Mexican wrestling masks.
Ahhh……Some of my finest film work.
Okay, if you managed to take your child out of there without tearing the woman in charge a new one, you are my new hero.
By the way, I read your answers to the Five Questions at Mommy Bloggers. Don’t knock the cow tongue. The meat from the inside is incredibly tender and juicy.
I love using fake names on this blog. It makes everything seem so dramatic somehow, like we’re all in the witness protection program.
um, excuse me?
what’s wrong with the witness protection program?
I can honestly say it didn’t occur to me to “tear her a new one.” I just thought it was hilarious.
Oh, and I’ve had the cow tongue. The slice I had was a cold cut for sandwiches and was a bit waxy for my taste. Thanks for stopping by. I’ll check out your blog.
I’m sorry BB, I forgot about your “situation.” I shouldn’t make light.
Oh, I also forgot to mention she’s only two and he’s barely three. This is just harmless play, in my mind.
If they were a few years older, there’d be some concern.
You are so funny.
You make me laugh funny lady.
Maybe I’ll change my blog name from Stephanie to I don’t know something McGee. My sister says everything is funnier with a McGee at the end.
Okay, as the mother of “Big Moses” and “woman in charge”, I feel I have to defend myself, at least a little bit. 🙂 First, I would like to point out that I had seen both children FULLY CLOTHED 3 minutes prior to the “incident” before I went downstairs to put more batteries in a toy another little co-op preschooler had found not working. Second, Big Moses was fully clothed during the “incident”. Third, the Spider Man undies were NOT the ones Big Moses had been wearing earlier, they were clean undies he got out of his closet. Fourth, if you have actual children in your house, you know that most of them at around age 2-4 are strip artists. Not much you can do about it. And fifth, the leaders of the nudist colony I grew up in would have torn me a new one too…that my son even owns clothes (okay, just kidding about that last part).
🙂
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