Ellie is having difficulty with some of the terms and definitions used for Grandma.
We have played at least fifty games of Uno this week and almost every time Ellie is down to her last card she excitedly exclaims, “Nona!”
Today, we were out for our bike ride and Ellie shouted from two chevrons back, “Why is Molly’s Grandma still at her house while Molly is at school?”
I waved to Molly’s Grandma who is actually Molly’s twenty something Filipino Nanny. I suspect there has been some crossover with the words Granny, Nanny and Nana making it difficult for Ellie to distinguish this young woman from Molly’s actual relatives and she’s clearly made no connection to age or choice in eyewear.
The school bus pulled up and our neighbour’s young son exited. He was greeted at the foot of his driveway by a woman with a clipboard, thankfully, not a pile of religious literature or I would have dutifully bolted to warn the others. She began asking him a series of questions about the whereabouts of his parents and who they think they might want to vote for in the next municipal election. He looked puzzled as he should, he is seven. Even more puzzling was Ellie telling Hanna to grab the skipping rope so they could show Malcolm and his Grandma the massive improvements in their skipping abilities. Again, not his Grandma, in fact, she is the anti-Grandma, a clipboard and a jacket that screamed local politics without a sticker book or bag of candy in sight.
We snacked on a couple of Granny Smith’s after school and Ellie asked me if it’s true I love my kids more than I love myself. I explained not only was it true but she would one day feel that way if she is ever lucky enough to be a mother.
Ellie: Mommy, when you say those things, my eyes fill up with hearts.
When she says those things, I almost pee my Granny panties.