This evening, after I picked AH up from Ms. A’s, we were chatting about all sorts of things on the ride home.
She told me about her day and how much she loved squash.
She said she wanted to go to the donut store and get donuts to share with her friends.
She told me she wanted to play schoolwork and teacher when we got home.
She asked me who have her the Dora backpack she carries and when I tell her daddy did, she says, “My daddy is so nice. I tell him thank you for my Dora backpack.”
Then, she’s quiet for a second.
Her next words were, and I’m not kidding…
“Mama, you don’t drive very well.”
Because, not to sound like Rainman, I am an excellent driver.
The writer in me is giddy inside that she is using proper grammar.
The mother in me thinks she’s adorable, even when insulting my driving.
And the wife in me wants to know how long The Husband has been working on getting her to say that.
So I dig for more info, naturally.
Me: What did you say, baby?
AH: I said you don’t drive very well.
Me: Oh, okay. Why don’t I drive very well?
AH: Only daddies and brudders.
Me: Only daddies and brothers drive very well?
AH: Daddies and brudders and stisters.
Me: Daddy, brother and sister. Not Mommy?
AH: Driving is really, reeaally hard mama.
Oh. That must be it, then.
Glad we cleared that up.