peas peas me, whoa yeah, like I peas you
I inadvertently created a monster this afternoon at lunch. Nora got mushed-up peas on her pants
and was kind of freaking out about it, “OH NO! OH NO! Dada, peas! oh NO!”. So, wishing to show her that a little mess on one’s pants is nothing to get worked up about, I scooped a puddle of peas off the table with my finger and smeared them all over her other leg. This did, indeed, get her to calm down because she thought it was hilarious.
She immediately started spooning peas directly onto her pants legs so she could rub them in. Then she grabbed a glob of peanut butter and rubbed that in really well too. I eventually got her to stop (gently & playfully so as not to undo the intended message) and she helped me hose off her clothes in the sink (picture tiny, shivering Nora standing on her stool in a diaper and helping Dada wash her clothes — like a little chihuahua being asked to pull a dogsled).
Was someone out there hoping for hand-me-down clothes from this person? :)