Midge-isms

Our youngest daughter, Midge, is five years old now.  She is finally out of her 3T clothes and seems to be shooting out of her 4t pants (in length, anyway).  She’s never shot out of any size before, so this is all new.  Luckily I am a packrat and have saved all clothes worth saving from her two older sisters, so she is the best dressed of the three.

Midge is also still very blond.  L~ (I need to come up with blog names for my two oldest, but that will be a different post) was also very blond when she was younger, as was I, but we both began browning by the time we were Midge’s age.  Because of my brown hair and L~ and A~’s brown hair, and because our sons were obviously adopted, I’ve had more than one person ask if Midge was adopted as well.  (she is not)

At any rate, the previous two paragraphs really have nothing to do with anything other than to give you a little background and help you paint a picture in your mind of a sprightly, elfin blond-haired, blue-eyed girl with whom we’ve had the following exchanges:

Me: Hey, Midge, did you hear the bull frogs talking back and forth to each other across the pond?

Midge:  Bull frogs?  No, I didn’t hear anyfing.

Me:  You didn’t hear that sound just now?  It sounds kind of like “garuuuump garuuump.”

Midge:  Oh, that?  Yeah, I heard that.  I just thought it was a drowning cow or goat or somefing.

On a completely different occasion, Midge and McH were talking and he was joking around with her.  I have no recollection what the conversation was about.   You don’t really expect me to remember those kinds of details, do you?  Anyway, he was pulling her leg, getting her goat, whatever you want to call it, and she just wasn’t sure if she should believe him or not.

Me:  Midge, tell your daddy he’s smoking crack.  (no, she doesn’t know what that means)

Midge:  Daddy!  You are speaking crap!

Close enough little girl, close enough.

And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt says hello.  Garrruuuump.  So do his neighbors.

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