Dumples is four today!
Every Wednesday and Friday she goes to preschool. Every Wednesday and Friday, she cries at drop off. At the end of the two hours, she has had a great time. Every Wednesday and Friday at dinner, I ask her what she did at preschool.
“I played wif Playdough,” she tells me.
“You sure play with Playdough a lot,” I told her. Better at preschool than at home. That stuff is crazy hard to get out of nooks and crannies, and once it gets under your fingernails, fuggedaboudit.
“Yeah,” agrees Dumples. “He’s my best fwiend.”
“You mean the clay stuff that you mush into shapes and hide in the couch cushions?”
“No. Playdough isn’t a clay stuff. Playdough is a puhson.”
Today, for Dumple’s birthday, I took the day off from work to do fun stuff with her. (Yay birthdays!) First, I accompanied her to preschool so she could show me all the cool stuff they have to play with.
“Okay,” I said, kneeling down next to her as we glanced around the room buzzing with eager children, “which one is Playdough?”
“Uh, Mom,” she hissed at me, “There’s no kid named Playdough. That was just pwetend.”
At the end of preschool, I picked her up to take her to lunch (Chuck E. Cheese!). “How was preschool?” She told me she wasn’t shy today, on her birthday; she talked! She told the class about her show-and-tell item, her Flying Doggie. “And I played with Playdough,” she said. And she laughed.