Before having Verona all of my long-term childcare responsibilities have been with little boys. With boys I know what to expect, typical male behavior.
Don’t get me wrong, I like Seth Rogan movies, I enjoy some lowbrow humor from time to time, a quality bodily function joke will not go unlaughed at by me, so I know first hand that girls have a certain level of that in them as well. But still, with little boys you expect a lot of that (and in my experience you usually get a lot of it)… boys are, afterall, just tiny men. With girls you know it will happen sometimes but you don’t expect it nearly to the same degree.
I didn’t expect it with Verona… at least not like this. Imagine my surprise when her vocabulary blossomed and I found I had given birth to a miniature frat boy.
Nothing amuses this child more than hearing an impolite noise escape someone’s body. She will laugh and laugh and then remind you of the incident for the rest of the day.
And heaven forbid she should ever make one of said noises herself without letting you know… or letting anyone else within earshot get by without knowing as well.
But her all time favorite activity is letting you know about poop. All about it. If there is something to be said about poop she will be the one to tell you. If one of the dogs goes outside she will let you know “Daisy pooping! Barney pooping!” (Mind you, they may not actually be pooping, they may just be going outside for any number of other reasons… she doesn’t care.) If I’m in the bathroom and the door isn’t completely latched she will barge in, finger pointing accusingly at me, declaring “Pooping! Pooping!” The entire time she fills her pants followed by the entire time it takes you to change her diaper she will give you a play by play of exactly what is happening.
The other day I was talking to my incredibly proper mother on skype… talking about the sorts of mundane things you talk to your incredibly proper mother about…
When suddenly our conversation was hijacked. There was very important information that needed to be conveyed.
Sigh. Boys will be boys… and sometimes girls will kind of be boys too.