Archived: Are me goofy?

Original Post Date: December 29, 2006
I am often told that I am gifted in the humor department. Not bragging, but let’s be honest—you don’t read this blog for its intellectual insights. Though I do have a few of those that would knock your socks off as well, let me tell you. Anyway, I have recently discovered that I have nothing on my three year old daughter. Since I’ve been off work for the past week because of the holidays, I have spent much more time with her than usual. Also, this is the first year she’s really aware of Christmas, and the combination of circumstances has left me speechless more than once. Allow me to provide examples.
On Christmas Eve, we opened presents at both Matt’s parents’ house and my parents’ house. By the time we got to my parents’, Abby had already opened about 1,000 presents. We got there and went straight to it, as my mom is a champion gift buyer. About a third of the way into opening, Abby walked away into the kitchen and said, “Let’s take a break from opening presents.” Um. Huh? You’re a KID! On CHRISTMAS! With PRESENTS to open! Okay, so we eat dinner. After dinner we return to the presents, but she makes me open all of hers. Seriously, I worry about her.
Christmas afternoon, we headed down to Little Rock to visit my grandmother. Abby slept most of the way there, along with Ethan. She woke up as we drove along the rural road leading to her Gigi’s house. Here is the conversation that transpired, in exact order and with no comments deleted:
Abby: Mom, what do cows eat?
Me: Grass.
Abby, Well, I think they eat their own poop.
(I look at Matt, bewildered. He shrugs.)
Me: Abby, why do you think cows eat their own poop?
Abby: Well, my dad said when cows poop they make cow pies.
(Matt turns purple trying not to laugh)
Me: Well, cow pies are not like the pies we eat.
Abby. Oh. Mom, was Joseph Baby Jesus’ dad?
Me: No, God was Baby Jesus’ dad.
Abby: But Mary was his mommy?
Me: Yes.
Abby: Oh! So Joseph was the babysitter.
Me: Well, actually—yes, Abby. You got it. Joseph was the babysitter. Look, we’re at Gigi’s! (I figure I can correct that misinformation later, but I just didn’t have the energy at that point.)
Do you see what I mean? She has a sharp little mind in that head of hers, and it’s always working. We are both thrilled and terrified to think of what it’s going to come up with next. Yesterday, she asked me, very seriously, “Mom, are me goofy?” For once, the answer to an Abby question was simple.