Sasha fell in luuuuuv on Sunday night. It was at the mall. We were just wrapping up dinner at the Cheesecake Factory, and she was a little restless. She and I walked over to Bath & Body Works to smell things (with our noses) while daddy finished eating and paid the bill. Sadly, the store had just closed, so our noses remained untitillated. We went for a walk, instead.
This is when she saw... The Boy. He was younger than her, only 18 months, with lush dark hair in a becoming bowl cut and rich dark brown eyes. Sasha was captivated. The Boy seemed equally enthralled, and even tried to throw his pacifier at her. "Mommy, look! Boy!" she said.
With great effort, I pried Sasha away to go back and check on daddy. "Let's go tell daddy about The Boy," I suggested. She hurried back to our table.
"Daddy! Boy, there!" she shouted, pointing out to the hall. She bounced with excitement, waiting for daddy to gather our belongings, before rushing back out to see The Boy.
When we reached him, she stood there, rapt; he looked back at her from the comfort of his stroller. For a while, we just let them watch each other, and then, like the cruel parents we obviously are, ripped them apart.
"Bye, Boy!" Sasha called, waving. "Mmmmwah!"(1) He waved at her in return as we made our exit.
The next morning, she told everybody at daycare about The Boy. When I picked her up that evening, she reminisced with me. Then, when we got home...
"Mommy, go whee,"(2) she said. "Boy! Go whee!" I had to pry her from her car seat, dodging the little fists and feet that rained upon me with surprising strength. I must admit some chagrin; I had not expected Sasha to become angry with me for interfering in her love life for many years to come.
She even told grandma and grandpa about The Boy on the phone that night, and has spoken of him with some wistful nostalgia in the three days since. Time heals all wounds, baby.
In other news: Sasha is in full-tilt weaning, now. I figured my going away to Atlantic City might help, and it did. She went almost three whole days without, but the stress started really getting to her, and I've relented a little. She doesn't get snack more than once a day now, though, and I expect to phase even that out over the course of a the next few weeks.
My kitchen is: Streaky. Yesterday, I get the clever idea of cleaning my filthy windows on the outside with a Wet Swiffer. Now, instead of clean windows, I have the same filthy windows, except with the dirt streaked around and an additional white film coating. Curses, foiled again.
1. "Mmmmwah!" is the noise Sasha makes when she is blowing kisses.
2. Inexplicably, Sasha calls cars "whee."
Hmmm... no swiffer on windows. Very good thing to know ;)
Posted by: Amber Bole on May 7, 2004 03:00 PM