Bean is so great. She’s so five-year-old. Literal. I love it. She says things that just make me laugh all the time. She has words that she uses that I can’t fix. Or I don’t want to fix. I love that she wipes her face with her “mapkin” when she eats. And I love that she uses big words in places they don’t belong. And how she spells words “icegream” (ice cream) and “egsatly” (exactly) and “pishur” (picture). I love that she draws pictures for grandparents and writes “I love everybody in South Carolina ” on the back.
She’s so emotional. It’s raw, unjaded emotion. “Really? REALLY?? Why does everyone have to be so mean to me?” when I ask her to feed the dogs. And it’s passionate. I hope she never loses it. I’m so afraid that life will take that away from her. Sure the stomping and crying at Every. Little. Thing. gets old. The exaggeration of anger in her statements is annoying. But it’s her. It’s so Bean. It’s going to be a pain when she’s a teenager. But I hope she keeps it. And her perception is amazing. I love the way she sees the world. I wish that we could all wear Bean Glasses every once in a while. Just to know what it’s like. To know why wearing hot pink cowboy boots with everything is cool. To know why clothes that seemingly don’t match at all are perfect. To be able to dance when there is no music, laugh at everything, and believe that everyone lives “happily ever after”. And her wrong words are great. Her most recent is so funny because she doesn’t realize its wrong, and doesn’t realize it’s funny.
Peanut threw a ball up on our roof and it went into the gutter. But one of the exhaust chimneys for the gas furnace has a bit of a shiny brass bit on it. So we’re sitting on the hammock in our back yard and Bean says “Hey! I see the yellow ball!” We all begin looking for what she might see. “I don’t see it” I tell her. “It’s in the gutter” Peanut said. “It’s right there!” Bean said. After lots of “where?” and “we can’t see it.” She finally says “ARE YOU BLONDE?!? It’s RIGHT THERE!” Yup. Blonde. Funny stuff. Not to her. The window treatments you can open and close are blondes too. It’s a word mistake she doesn’t know she’s making. But to me, her screaming “are you BLONDE?” is so funny. Why? A million blonde jokes growing up. The fact that none of us are blonde, so it’s funny. And because it’s Bean. It’s so Bean! And I hope it never changes.
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