Tune a fish

It has been a while since I blogged about my odd conversations with Miss Neverpoop. I know that these days are limited; the ones where she tells me what she is thinking and listens to what I say. Pretty soon, I will be an annoying voice to her. I will be that guy warning her about boys and reminding her to do her homework and making her help around the house. She has already begun questioning the wisdom of daily naps.

Her negotiating skills are incredible. She would have sold weaker fathers used cars and public bridges by now. She has her parents figured out. She knows that Dad doesn't negotiate with tiny terrorists. She knows that Mom would drop a glass of water when dying of thirst to play with her.

But I think my favorite has been her recent attempts to explore humor. She is very interested in puns and word play, using "toot" and "pants" in conjunction with absurdity. ("This story is about a fairy named Tootypantshead!") Obviously, I have influenced her for the worse.

Lately, she has been naming me after her favorite foods. It makes her laugh, and is often accurate.

Me: Time to put on your coat and head home, Monkey.
Miss Neverpoop: Sure thing, Sucker!

Or even better:

Me: You're pretty wound up today. You must be a giggle-squirrel.
Miss Neverpoop: And you're a cheesy cracker!

How's that for surprisingly accurate?!
Thankfully, her humor isn't limited to just me as the target. Our close friends are part of the fun.
Miss Neverpoop: "I like decorating gingerbread men. I like blue and red and sprinkles. My gingerbread man is going to be Matty, so he won't have any hair."