It’s me, Lyol, again.
I am now 2 years and 3 months old. It’s growing up time. Time to get my own room say Mommy and Daddy. I thought maybe they were going to kick me out into the village to get my own hut. But, instead they are having a bedroom built INSIDE our own house. I am so lucky.
But there are TWO rooms under construction right now. Do I get TWO rooms? One to play in and one to sleep in? Brilliant!!!
Mommy has set aside all of my old baby stuff to go in the other room. How very exciting. I get to play with my old baby stuff in one room and my more grown up stuff in the other room.
The builders came on Thursday. They have put up 2 walls already. Mommy was very excited at the progress, which she says happens very slowly here sometimes.
All that’s left is to finish the walls, cut out the windows, replace the windows, put in doors, stucco the walls, paint the walls, paint the walls again, put in electricity and lights and switches and... well, there’s still a little left to do. They said they might finish it this week. So, if you factor in African time, it might be done by... carry the one... divide by pi... square root... n!... f(x) d/dx... take the hypotenuse... (this is too much math for a two-year-old) probably around April. 2013.
I’m getting kinda tired of my crib. I let my parents know. Every morning. About 4AM. Usually, I start out with a plaintive cry for ‘Dink.’ They eventually caught on to the fact that I was just trying an excuse to get them to come to my crib, where I can always woo Mommy (and sometimes woo Daddy) into taking me back to their bed. So now they leave a bottle of water in my crib every night and when I wake up and cry ‘Dink,’ they just tell me to get the drink that’s already beside me.
Well, believe you me, I got more in my repertoire than just ‘Dink.’ At that point, I give ‘Eet’ a shot. That rarely gets me anywhere near getting to eat. I’ve also tried ‘By-dah-meen,’ ‘Kan-nee,’ ‘Schlee-bah,’ ‘Meen-aight,’ ‘Buhk,’ ‘Tshim-eeng,’ ‘Jooosse,’ ‘Tub,’ but those have never gotten me vitamins, candy, Sheba, Midnight, books, swimming or juice while I was still in bed.
Finally, I figured out the fool-proof. All I need to say is ‘Pee-pee’ or ‘Ca-ca’ and Viola! I get a free ride out of bed. Mommy will let me take a quick sit on the toilet, then takes me back to her bed. Daddy will let me sit on the toilet forever, then puts me back into my own crib. That fool just doesn’t get it. I don’t want back in my own bed. If it’s Daddy, I know I’m going back to my own bed, so I drag out the toilet thing. I’ll sit there for hours. He and I will have poop-offs. Sometimes, I’ll sit there so long I fall asleep on the toilet. But it’s better than the crib! That thing is like a prison! It’s got bars and everything!
Anyway, Mommy and Daddy have promised me the queen-size bed. Not bad for a two-year-old! But there are a couple stipulations. #1 I need to be able to get into bed by myself. #2 I need to stay there and not get into Mommy’s bed. (Everybody knows it’s her bed. Daddy just rents his side.) #3 I need to give up my room whenever we have company. I’m cool with those rules.
Bring on the progress!!!