Last night I had a dream that the kid and I were at a U2 concert. After the show was over, Bono personally invited my daughter back stage to meet the band. Not me, my four-year-old child. My conscious brain has already absorbed the fact that A is cooler than I am, but now my sub-conscious mind is aware of it as well. Awesome.
In other news, dandelion season is here again. The kid has actually asked me to stop in the middle of a busy road so that she could pick dandelions growing on the median (don't worry, I didn't go for it). I know a day will come when she'll realize that dandelions are essentially a weed and stop bringing them into the house in mass quantities every Spring. Sure, it's very sweet that she keeps picking them for me, but I don't want to be too sentimental about it here. She brings them in with virtually no stem but expects me to put them in water and cherish them for all time. When I do put them in water, they die quickly and I can tell from her disapproving look that she believes I must have done something to hasten their demise. She leaves clumps of them on the end table and then the puppy chews them up. Never has such a lowly flower found so many ways to be irritating. Perhaps dandelions have the perfect marketing agent: small children the world over.
While it's true that my daughter is unaware that dandelions are weeds, she is pretty confident about the rest of her knowledge. The other day we had this exchange:
Her: Mama, do you know what bowling balls are made out of?
Me: No, I sure don't. (No lie - I actually have no earthly idea)
Her (lifting her chin and taking on an air of smugness): Bowling balls are made out of coconuts.
Me: Actually, I don't think -
Her (cutting me off): Yes, that's what they are made of, alright. Coconuts.
Me: Okay, thanks for letting me know.
Man, I am just getting dumber by the minute. I'll be a complete imbecile by the time she's a teenager, no doubt.