Wednesday, April 29, 2009

A Whimsical Slice Of My Day

Alternate Title: Oh, That's Where Those Grey Hairs Keep Coming From!

Max to Mama (at the grocery store): I need all of that cookie.
Mama: No, I got it for you and Maggie to share. Maggie gets this piece, and you get this piece.
Mama: Listen. I'm going to hang onto the cookie until you calm down and are ready to talk in a nice voice. You don't get things by yelling at people. (and etc.)
[brief pause while Max sniffles and Mama lurks in an out of the way corner of the store to minimize disruption and Maggie happily eats her shard of cookie]
Mama: It seems like you've calmed down a little bit now. Are you ready to try again?
Max (somewhat resentfully): Yes.
Mama: Would you like to have your cookie now while we finish shopping?
Max (somewhat resentfully): Yes. But I wanted the whole cookie. I really did.
Mama: Yes, I think you made that pretty clear.
Elderly Lady Passing By: Ohhh, you've got a cookie, haven't you? Is that a good cookie?
Max: Yes. You know, Mama took my cookie away from me. I cried.
Elderly Lady Who Now Regrets Trying To Make Conversation: Oh? Well ...that's ... that's too bad?
[Elderly Lady scurries off]
Max: I was pretty sad about that cookie.
Mama: I know, Max.
Max: I wish I had Maggie's cookie, too.
Mama: Oh, well, Max.
Max: Thatwise I cried.
Mama: Live in the now, Dude.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Monday, April 27, 2009

Mama Error # 352,427: Do Not Do Exhausting Things Early In The Day And Then Try To Skip Nap

Maggie to Mama: I night nights, Mama.
Mama: Hmm? Wait, what?
Maggie:(dreamily) Night nights, Mama.
Mama: No! Oh, no! It's 4:45! If you go to sleep now, you'll never go to bed tonight! No night nights!
Maggie: Night nights.
Mama: Maggie? Maggie! Don't go to sleep, Maggie!
Maggie: I sleeping.
Mama: Let's read a book! Let's take a bath! Let's throw the ball or try on shoes or blow bubbles or eat a cracker or ... dear God Maggie please do NOT go to sleep! Maggie?
Maggie: zzz.
Mama: Oh no.

Saturday, April 25, 2009

First Edition

An original story by Max Tillman

"We won't come in" said Max said. "Until the night goes and the day comes." I love you.
Dear Mama, last years ago I said I love you.
Monsters are in it, too. Their big feet are stomping. I have big feet, too, see? But they're not monster feet.
"I love you, Max." The monsters say that.
Dear Nephew, I love you. Like in Bob The Builder, right Mama?
See the stick on my shirt here? Thatwise I am a tree.
I love you again. I like you. You're the best.
I was talking about sitting there. I like chairs. Chairs are great.
I'm a grown up. But I can't reach a lot of things.
I'm under here now.
Reindeer and Santa, I love you. Put Max all over it. I like it.
Love, Max

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Cute, With A Side Of ???

For reasons best known to himself, Max has taken to referring to Maggie as "The Little Squeaker Toy". When Maggie is upset or peevish or angry or sad, Max will sidle up to her, nuzzle her cheek with his nose, and say in his high-pitched patronizing-the-baby voice, "Hey, you Little Squeaker Toy! Don't cry! It's okay, I'm here, my little squeaker toy! Who's a little squeaker toy?" and etc.

I am not quite sure what to think about this new development. On the one hand, it's really cute. On the other hand, it's kind of weird, no? Maggie is not, by my observation, particularly squeaky, and she certainly does not condescend to be anybody's toy. On the other hand, it's REALLY cute, and Maggie LOVES it. It is frequently the only thing that can make her forget that her will has been thwarted by an unforgiving universe yet again. On the other hand, I strongly suspect that the whole routine, especially the high-pitched voice, is Max's sincere imitation of me when I am in full-on Mom mode, and I -- I guess I just wasn't aware that I came off quite so high-pitched and saccharine. On the other hand, it is really, really, very cute. And I reckon it is the most benign of the many names we can expect Max and Maggie to call each other as the years go by.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Watch Your Mouth

Ian to Chelsa: What is Maggie yelling at Max about?
Chelsa: She wants him to blow more bubbles.
Ian: Oh. Is she saying, 'bubbles'?
Chelsa: Yeah.
Ian: Thank God. It sounded like she was calling him a bastard. Why does she say 'bubbles' so it sounds like 'bastards'?
Chelsa: She definitely does NOT say 'bubbles' so it sounds like 'bastards'. You are just a sick, sick man and your sickness colors everything you hear and see.
Maggie to Max in the background: More bastards, Mac? I need bastards!


Chelsa: !!!
Ian: See? You have to admit --
Chelsa: I still say you're a big sicko.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Friday, April 10, 2009

A Whole New Meaning To The Phrase "Head Games"

Maggie to Dad: Catch it, Daddy! (chucking toy phone and whacking Dad in the head)
Dad: Ow! Maggie, don't throw things at my head!
Maggie: Why not?
Dad: Why not? Because it hurts.
Maggie: Why?
Dad: Because it's made of hard plastic and it hurts when it bonks my head.
Maggie (rounding up for another throw): Here you go, Daddy! More catch it?
Dad: Ow! No. No more catch.
Maggie: Why not?
Dad: You're too violent.
Maggie: NO NO! I sorry, Daddy.
Dad: It's oka -- argh! No throwing things at Dad, Maggie! Owie!
Maggie: Daddy?
Dad (rubbing various welts on head): What is it, Maggie?
Maggie: I love you, too.
Dad (picking up Maggie and snuggling her): I love you, too, Maggie.
Maggie: Hiding, Daddy? More hide?
Dad: Yeah, okay. At least the blanket is soft.