Death by pasta

Mimi: She’s dead. (shows me a headless doll)

Me: Oh no. Who killed her?

Mimi: Pasta.

Me: Pasta? (sounds like a good way to go actually)

Her sisters giggle.

Suzuki: Mommy, she means The Imposter.

Footnote:

Our house is full of dolls with various missing appendages. I’ve long blamed it on the poor quality of modern toys rather on whatever weirdness it may indicate about my children.
The Imposter is the antagonist in a multi-player online game called Among Us — which Mimi calls ‘Mangas’.

A word speaks a thousand pictures:

Gymnovert, who was Grade R at the time, intently stares at the pages of a book with chapters for several minutes before leisurely turning the page and staring again.

“Look how far I am,” she says to Jay. (This was something Jay and Eldest did frequently at the time, read the same book and comparing who was reading it faster).

Jay: “Can you read, Gymnovert?”

Gymnovert: (nonchalantly) “No.”

Jay: (Looking at Gymnovert curiously) “Then what are you doing?”

Gymnovert: (without even looking up) “I’m looking at the words.”

Footnote: I’m sure you can tell from this anecdote that Gymnovert is my most unflappable child.

Food fight:

Jay and Suzuki get into a breakfast fight about a completely imaginary situation.

Jay: (while eating chocolate-flavoured instant oats) Mommy, next time can you buy a different flavour, please?

Me: Don't you like the chocolate flavour?

Jay: I do but I don't like banana. If you buy banana, then buy chocolate too because I'll rather have chocolate.

Suzuki: I also like chocolate.

Jay: No, you must have banana.

Suzuki: No, you must have banana.

Continues until the fight becomes really high-pitched.

Me: Stop it! You’re fighting about something that's not real! There is no banana porridge.

As I walk away, Suzuki whispers: You must have banana!

Jay whispers: No! You must have banana!

Footnote: I never bought that oats again.

Free Willy

Eldest, when she is about four or five, gets into bed and as I tuck her in she says: “Not my feet Mommy, my feet are getting hot.”

And then she adds: “And not my Willy.”

I crack up laughing. She is referring to her stuffed whale.

Footnote: Eldest is 18 now and still sleeps with an array of stuffed toys, including Willy.

Um, say what?

Me: So, Gymnovert, how was pyjama-day at creche?

Gymnovert, 5: It was fun. We were dancing and Liam spinned (sic) me and kissed me and told me I'm his motjie.

Footnote: Motjie — slang. Meaning — Sometimes derogatory or sometimes endearing term for girlfriend or wife.

Storytime:

A nearly four-year-old Suzuki tells me the following story: “Once upon a time there was a princess who fell in love with a prince. She told her mommy and her mommy said, you can't marry him because he is marrying someone else. So the princess went to the prince and said she wanted to marry him and the prince said: I can't marry you because I'm a rock star and rock stars don't marry people. The end.”

Footnote: Telling each other stories is a favourite family pastime, usually at bedtime. I’ve learned that children under four usually tell stories that sound like the mindless ramblings of someone high on hypnotic drugs — Yellow Submarine level stuff.

A stumped starch

Gymnovert: Mommy, what's for supper?

Me: I'm not cooking, Daddy is.

Gymnovert: Oh. (goes to her daddy).

(Comes back) Gymnovert: Daddy said, it's fish cakes with confused rice.

Me: What?

Daddy: (shouts from the kitchen) Fish cakes with infused rice.

Tiger, tiger burning bright … What the hand, dare seize the fire?

Rocky: Mommy, I had a bad dream last night.

Me: What did you dream about?

Rocky: I dreamt a tiger came to the house and he could talk.

Gymnovert: (laughing) That’s not a bad dream.

Rocky: He had guns too.

Mis-sung lyrics

Radio: I, I love you like a love song baby.

Gymnovert and Rocky: (on full volume) I, I love you like a lobster baby.

Flee from these fleas:

Eldest (age 4): Mary had a little lamb, its fleas were white as snow.

“A waste of teeth”

Gymnovert was losing teeth faster than the tooth fairy could keep up.

One night she puts a tooth under her pillow but the tooth fairy doesn’t come.

I tell her it’s because her room is too untidy and the tooth fairy didn’t want to have to search her room for the tooth (in truth I had just forgotten).

She then negotiates about places where she could leave it that would be easy for the tooth fairy to find, even if her room is untidy but I persist: “The tooth fairy won’t come if your room is too dirty.”

She huffs. “Fine! I don’t want money anyway. It’s just a waste of teeth.”

Irony impaired

Eldest, while looking at her drawings: Now I must draw another family portrait.

Suzuki: Why?

Eldest: To include the new baby. (I’m pregnant with Mimi at the time).

Gymnovert: But if you draw a new one, you have to draw mommy fat.

Suzuki: That's rude! You mustn't say people are fat.

Gymnovert: But the last time I told Mommy she was fat she said; “thank-you”.

Astro … not

Jay: Mommy, when I'm 20, will I have my own house?

Me: It's possible but unlikely.

Jay: Why?

Me: Because you'll probably be at university.

Suzuki laughs like she's never heard anything funnier.

Me: Why are you laughing?

Suzuki: Because Jay’s going to space.

Me: What?

Suzuki: You said Jay's going to university. That's in space.

Lawbreakers

Rocky is at the age where she thinks it's funny to substitute the word “bum” for random words.

Rocky: I, I love you like a bum-bum baby.

Gymnovert: Rocky, that's a dirty joke. (pause) Rocky never listens. She likes to break the law.

Shapeshifting

Rocky tells her daddy: Don't cut my bread in triangles because it makes me full. Cut it sideways.

From now on I'm going to cut everything into triangles, maybe I'll eat less.

Out-of-shape bad guys

(While watching Kung Fu Panda) Jay: Mommy, why do Chinese people build so many stairs?

Me: I don't know. What do you think?

Jay: Maybe so that the bad guys will get tired climbing up them.

Sailing under the influence

Gymnovert and Rocky are playing on pretend boats.

Gymnovert: I'm on a speed boat.

Rocky: I'm on a slow boat.

Both look at me in confusion when I burst out laughing.

Footnote: Slow boat is slang for weed on the Cape Flats.

Lauren O'Connor-May

From the mouths of babes