From Piper’s morning monologue…
“Dad, nobody wants to sit next to D in my class. He’s one of the booger boys.”
“The booger boys are a gang of boys who pick their boogers and wipe them places. Do not sit near them.”
“Also, D sucked on a crayon once. That does not help his cause.”
“Dad, did you have imaginary friends when you were a kid?”
“Yes. I did.”
“Dad, what was the name of your imaginary friend?”
“I can’t remember.”
“Well, then you must not have been very good friends.”
Piper thinks you might be following her. She knows you love the blog. You may love it so much that you’re trying to get secret pictures of her in action. Walking down the street. Sitting in the car. Dancing on the playground. You can’t get enough.
Yesterday as we were leaving school Piper saw a woman on her front porch with a camera. There was only one possible explanation.
“Ugh!” Piper exclaimed. “The paparazzi follow me everywhere!”
Piper told us at dinner last night that she’d heard THE “f” word. Kids at school are saying it. Her teacher is discouraging it but it seems to be contagious.
“First Kayla said it,” Piper said. “Mrs. A warned her. Kayla did it again. BIG trouble!”
“What happened then?” Sissy asked.
“Nate said it, too. Mrs. A told him not to say it again.”
“Did Mrs. A say the ‘f’ word when she told them not to say it?” Daddy asked.
“No. She didn’t have to. Everyone knows the ‘f’ word.”
“What is it, Piper?”
What goes on in a Piper’s head? I wonder myself. It seems a great mash up. Every once in awhile she pulls back the curtain. What comes out is equally fascinating and hilarious. Piper’s revelations make me laugh so hard espresso shoots out my nose.
Yesterday, from her perch on the toilet, with the bathroom door wide open, of course, Piper yelled:
“Wait. Is RG3 like R2D2?”
It took me a full minute to register that she was mixing the Washington Redskins with Star Wars. And that’s what really goes on behind the curtain.
Last night at dinner I professed my love for jalapenos. It’s a new infatuation. I’m eating them on everything. Salads, spaghetti, fajitas, pancakes. Okay. Maybe not pancakes, but I’m seeking the heat, the spicy. I can’t seem to load on enough.
“You know why don’t you, Mom?” Sissy asked, matter of factly.
“Um. I love jalapenos?” I guessed.
“It’s because you’re getting older. Your taste buds deteriorate as you age. Aren’t you almost 40?” Oh, snap. She DID NOT. I gave her the evil eye and heaped on more jalapenos.
“It’s true, Mom,” Dr. Sissy continued. “That’s why young kids don’t like spicy food. They’re taste buds are stronger.”
“I get it, Mom,” Piper said. “I feel the same way about cannolis. If they were the last food on Earth…well, I’d eat ALL of them.”
A few holiday piperisms from the road…
“I heard sleigh bells in the middle of the night. I closed my eyes real tight. Santa doesn’t know when you’re faking it.”
“Ah! I fell down! Now I’m damaged! And my limbs do not work properly.”
“Papa, you smell just like my Daddy. He smells like pizza, too.”
“Alright, Santa. I’m ready for next year. Let the list begin.”
“I really like the beach. Except for the sand part.”
And here’s Piper’s vintage holiday dress from Germany: