Our daughter Kennedy is 16 months old and currently possesses a vocabulary of well over 20 words.
But I can tell by her expression alone that she understands a good 95% of what I say.
This, of course, wasn't the case when she was seven months old and would chuck her sippy cup off the tray of her high chair and then look at me as if to say "We'll, look at that! The sippy cup landed right there on the floor!"
Like clockwork, I'd retrieve the sippy cup, give it back to her, she'd take a few sips from it, and then toss it right down again.
The cycle continued, and I indulged her for a while, but now the jig is up.
I know she understands gravity.
So I took it upon myself to educate her even further during dinnertime last week -- I served her a bowl of mac 'n cheese with a little side of science.
Near the end of dinner, she tossed the sippy cup again.
And then she laughed afterward.
The move pissed me off.
She stared down at the cup, looked back up at me, and then whined.
I did nothing.
And that pissed her off.
I pulled her high chair in close and looked Kennedy square in the eyes.
Although she didn't verbalize her response, I knew she understood exactly where I was coming from.
Her expression spoke volumes...
Kennedy: So you're really not going to pick it up?
Kennedy: But I'm thirsty now. And I want my cup back.
Kennedy: I don't like that answer.
Me: "I don't, either. But it's true, my dear. Gravity is real and unforgiving and there's no way around it."
Kennedy: I don't believe you.
Me: "Well, you should. Look at your cup. It's still on the floor. Why? Blame gravity."
Kennedy: That's cruel.
Me: "Oh, it is. Gravity is so cruel. Want to know what's worse than a fallen sippy cup? Fallen boobs and a bum that sags."
Kennedy, I swear, looks straight at my chest and gestures with a nod: Gravity?
Me: "Yup. Damn gravity. It affects everything. Well, gravity and pregnancy.
Kennedy: Interesting. Wouldn't abstaining from sugar and doing yoga more often (like you used to) actually reverse gravity...and the aftermath of pregnancy? Boom!
Me: "Stop getting fresh, young lady."
Kennedy: Sorry. I'm just saying.
Kennedy: I really want my sippy cup back.
Me: "Well, I really want my tighter bum back."
Kennedy: This is going nowhere. "DADDY!"
[Scott, whom Kennedy has wrapped around her little finger, appears, picks up her sippy cup, and gives it right back to her.]
And that was the end of that.
Oh, and she hasn't dropped her sippy cup since.
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