So, every morning I come in to wake up the girls with a little ritual. First, Basya. I climb into her bed and cuddle for a minute, then gently inform her that the shower is running for her and that if she doesn’t go now she’ll kill all of the polar bears by wasting water. She asks me to “escort” her (her word, not mine) to the bathroom; I do.
Next comes Dina. She’s a tougher nut to crack, so to get her out of bed, I have to start talking to her in ways that are so bizarre that she feels compelled to respond. I often call her weird things. So, this morning:
Me: Hey, twiddle sticks.
Me: Hey, tumble tot.
Me: Hey, fig popper.
Dina: Fig popper?
Me: Yeah. It’s a fig, stuffed with cheese, and then deep fried. Have you ever had one?
Me: Why not?
Dina: I’ve never had the time.
Me: What do you mean? They don’t seem like they’d take a long time to eat.
Dina: They take 20 minutes to eat.
Dina: Because, you’re only supposed to eat the fig. So you have to take off all the breading…
Me: Wait, then why do they put the breading on in the first place?
Dina: For texture.
Me: Ohhh…Okay, well, it’s 7:20, so you better get up and get dressed.
Dina: Wait…I’m practicing this Shakira move from the “She Wolf” video.
Whole other story…