Hannah-isms

It has come to my attention that lately I’ve been making a lot of people cry. While gathering throngs of people around my blog who are weeping and passing tissues can be kinda fun (in a sadistic helping-professional way of course **insert head tilt, supportive smile & sugary sweet nod here** hehe), I thought perhaps I should lighten things up a bit.

Which brings me to the question, “What’s so funny anyway?” What makes me laugh the most these days? My daughter’s witty comments and funny insights on the world. To understand what makes some of the following Hannah-isms so absolutely hysterical, you have to understand a bit about my little girl.

First off, Hannah is mini-me. I don’t say that to be conceited– I actually think it’s more that I’m a giant version of her than she is a mini-version of me. But we do look alike, we have the same facial expressions, the same goofy sense of humor and propensity toward being dramatic. We both laugh at fart jokes, unlike the more modest males in the family.

What differentiates us is that I’m a petite full-grown brunette, and she’s a little blondie who’s about a head shorter than most of her kindergarten peers. Oh yeah, that and the fact that *technically* I’m still the adult and she’s the child, although I swear she teaches me more about the world than most adults I know. And sometimes my goofy antics make people think I’m younger than I actually am anyway.

Hannie and I both can be alternately sweet and charming or stubborn and angry as all get-out. Especially when we want something. Maybe it’s the Taurus bull zodiac sign we share. Who knows? When we were getting ready for our day this morning and I giggled at something that Hannah did not think was funny, she growled at me.

I smiled and said, “That’s the little bull.”

Hannah replied, “Mommy. That is *not* funny. And I. am not. a bull.”

I tried to stifle my grin and get serious, but couldn’t resist muttering, “But your mommy is a bull.”

At which point she growled again and said, “You. are *alone* in that.”

Two minutes later, she finished brushing her teeth, hopped down off her bathroom stool, hugged my leg really tight and said sweetly, “Mom, I wasn’t serious. You are not alone. I love you” with a big smile. Then she danced off to put on her shoes.

Yup, that’s my little girl. Content and patient, happily determined, a strong-willed little entity who only takes out those bull horns and charges when someone waves something red in front of her. The rest of the time, she’s sitting with her mommy bull in a field of clover, actively enjoying the world and appreciating the sunshine.

Hannah began speaking early. My mother says I was “born talking” but I didn’t quite get what she meant until I had Hannah. When Hannie was one year old, I held out two hair ribbons and asked which one she wanted. She looked them over, reached out her tiny hand, pointed and said, “I want da green bow.” Five words, twelve months. Not too shabby, eh?

Today for your reading pleasure and amusement, here are some of my favorite “Hannah-isms” from the past year.

on arachnology & the internet: “Spiders have automatic things like cobs & webs & connectors. Connectors are things inside spiders that connect with the world wide web. They are inside the spiders’ toes.”

on Christmas Eve traditions: (looking thoughtful & concerned) “Mommy, do you remember last Christmas Eve when we put the carrots on the plate? (Yes.) Those were for the reindeer. But I don’t know why people let reindeer in the house– they make a lot of poop!”

on playing up personal attributes: “Mommy, you know what’s great about me?” (flashes charming smile, tosses hair over shoulder like a model) “I can cough and sneeze and fart– all at the same time!”

Five year old *girl* on reactions to fear: “Oh my gosh, Mommy, if I get scared on Halloween, I’m just going to scream like a little *boy*!!”

on dieting and accurate measurements: (Hannie walks up behind me, ruler in hand) “Mom, I just measured your butt and it’s 40%” Shakes head disapprovingly and walks out of the room.

on breakfast variety: “Hannah, do you want the usual ‘eggs made with love’ for breakfast?” (thinks a minute) “No, Mom. Today I want eggs made with sweet love… and salt.”

Me: So Hannah, I’m doing this blog, and I’m writing about funny stuff. Like when you sing funny words to songs. And when you make butt jokes. I love that. He he.