If you’ve read any of my posts about Story, you know she’s a talker. Luckily for me, she has a rather large vocabulary and can tell some pretty creative tales. She tries out new words every once in a while, but these past couple of weeks have made for some pretty interesting conversations. I don’t know if there’s such a thing as a vocabulary spurt, but if so, she’s going through one right now.
Sometimes she aims at the mark but misses: “Mom, this is the most dumbfounded spaghetti I’ve ever had!” Sometimes she hits the bull’s eye: “I’ve never had Mt. Dew, but when I’m an adult, I’m sure it will taste marvelous.” My favorites though are those that come nowhere near the target: Pointing at the night sky, “I see so many constipations!”
To combat Story’s difficulties with time, I jumped on the vocabulary wagon and had the fabulous idea of teaching her the ever-so-important word priority. This has been quite the battle. I don’t know whether she doesn’t understand the definition of priority or if her priorities are just completely wacky. We play the priority game, and she’s wrong more often than not.
Story: Packing a bag of my favorite toys.
Me: No, saving yourself is the most important.
Story: But I don’t want to live without my toys.
In the morning when she gets distracted while getting ready for school, I try to revisit the lesson. “Story, remember priority? What does that mean?”
She rolls her eyes – well, not really; she rolls her head because she hasn’t figured out how to roll her eyes, but the intended meaning is the same. “It’s the most important thing.”
“Yes! So, what is more important, the priority: getting dressed for school or debating what type of dinosaur you’re going to be today?”
I sigh. “No, getting dressed for school is more important because we have a limited amount of time to do so. We can discuss the types of dinosaurs after you get dressed.”
She sighs louder. “Mom, I can’t get dressed until I know what I am,” she explains patiently. “A dimetrodon can’t fit in the clothes of a troodon.” She is very serious.
I often wish I were as quick-witted as my sisters, but alas, I am not. Therefore, I lose. I’ve considered giving up, but tonight I thought I’d give it another shot.
On the way home after Story had been gone for the weekend, I asked her what her priority would be when we got to the house. She didn’t miss a beat. “Give you cuddles.”