Recently, Regan has started talking like Yoda. She mixes her words up a little bit and says things backwards. For instance,
I want bread more. (I want more bread)
I've got a butt on my belly. (I have a belly button)
I like rainbow pretty. ( I like the pretty rainbow)
I want off shoes. (I want my shoes off)
Etc, Etc, she has some really good ones that I"ll have to write down because they are hilarious, but I'm too tired to think of them right now!!
She also likes to see things from a different viewpoint. For instance, a conversation we have a thousand times a day goes a little something like this:
Regan and I in a store with Regan touching EVERYTHING even though she knows she isn't supposed to touch:
Me: Regan, are you supposed to be touching?
Me: Then why are you touching the (insert word here, example: brush, toy, food, etc)
Regan: I'm not touching, I wooking.
Me: No, you are touching not looking, there is a difference.
Regan: I wooking with my singers. (I'm looking with my fingers) See, mommy, I smile.
She then will cock her head to the side and give a big smile because she thinks that will get her anything she wants and I do have to admit it is really cute. Doesn't smiling at your mommy negate any wrong doing that just occurred?
And then there are the times that I should really take a good look in the mirror. I told Regan to get ready to go to Framma's house as we were going to my mom's house for dinner. She came out with this get up:
Dirty pajama top, obnoxious pink shorts, bracelet, a Barbie watch, and her new favorite shoes: blue plaid with heels. As I am taking her picture and inwardly laughing at how ridiculous Regan's get up looks, I happen to glance down at my own outfit. I think Regan got her fashion sense from her mommy as I was wearing Tinkerbell lounge pants in the same obnoxious pink as Regan's shorts, an old tourist shirt with cat heads on the front and cat butts on the back, tennis shoes with socks that have pom poms on the back, and my hair was in a pony tail that I didn't actually use a brush to create, but just used my fingers. And the scariest part of all: no make up. I then got the wonderful idea to walk to my mom's house as I certainly could use the exercise. I briefly thought about changing, but was just too lazy to do so. I paid dearly for my laziness as I ran into two different neighbors that wanted to chit chat. I guess that is what I get for laughing at my daughter and her lack of fashion sense. Unfortunately, I am with it enough to realize it is much more acceptable for a two year old to go out in public wearing this get up of questionable taste then it is for a woman of my advanced years!