Speaking of Elsie

Elsie tells me today that she is "exhaustic"--clearly a cross between exhausted and spastic--not too much of a surprise. She may get this from her parents.

Like her parents, as I have written before, Elsie has been known to coin a phrase or two or create nicknames. In fact, she has made up these new names that she uses as default names for toys, make-believe games, or anytime a nickname is needed: Kiki and Finn. Everyone is by default Kiki and Finn.

And in other make-believe news, Elsie has two imaginary friends. One is named Megan and goes to school with her. The other is named Rachel and hangs around the house and rides in the car with us. Last week, Elsie told me that Rachel was going to hang out in the car with Judy (the giant Barbie who I now suspect was named after Judy from Pat the Bunny or is what Judy from Pat the Bunny became once she grew up and became a groupie or a streetwalker) while we ate inside at Moe's. I asked her what Rachel and Judy would do in the car. She said they would "chat." About what, I asked? "Oh several fings," she replied.

On a similar note, Elsie can sing an entertaining variation of "My Favorite Fings" with special gusto for the "Dogs Bite" refrain.

As far as bites go, Elsie refers to mosquito bites as her "bugs" as in "Mommy, my bUUUUGS are itching me" with special emphasis on the "UUUUGGGSS."

Speaking of ugh, Elsie now requests privacy when using the bathroom and we must leave her alone and close the door... until she needs to wipe and then she needs the opposite of privacy.

The opposite of privacy might be what Elsie likes in the evening when engaging in her after dinner dancing. Her "tricks and moves," as she calls them, involve lots of kicks and spins and are choreographed to be conducted fully naked. Clearly, her career options are endless which makes her daddy very proud.

Related to career options, the other day I asked Elsie what she wanted to be when she grows up--"A TENNIS" she volleyed. Not a tennis ball or a tennis player or a tennis coach... just "A TENNIS."

And a last note, whenever Elsie is remembering, she recalls what happened--not yesterday--but "last day." As in, if I don't write these down, I'll never remember what Elsie did a few "last days" ago.