bunny fuzzes and grandmas

Ru,

You keep your mother perpetually in one of two states, sometimes both at once.  I feel like I’m always either in fits of laughter or pulling my hair out these days! 

The other morning you came up to me and announced, “I’m Piglet’s Grandma, Momma.  I’m Piglet’s Grandma.”  When I finally acknowledged that fact, you were supremely happy, and continued to play with Piglet (sister’s stuffed animal, which makes him somehow more desirable than Pooh on certain days—thus the frequent emphatic statement, “Piglet is my best friend!”).

Later you came running over to tell me, “There are two bunny fuzzes in the doorway!” 

I never did see said dust bunnies, but you got out your stuffed white bunny and apparently she saw them, for you told her: “Look, there’s your two bunny fuzz!”

And then there are the days where you seem to delight in getting in trouble because that means you can be alone in your room and not have to share with sister.  (We’re working on alternative punishments to being sent to your room, but it seems you’d rather have your toys taken away than let sister play with them!) 

It’s those days that I ask, “What am I going to do with you?” 

And that question?  It is then rephrased by you as, “What you want to do with me?” when you want someone to play with you. 

And the way you say it always makes people laughingly agree to do whatever you decide they want to do with you.

I love you, Ru.  Even if you are going to be the cause of many of my grey hairs.

Love,
Piglet’s grandma

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