We've jokingly said that The Girlie is building up a team of minions at preschool.
She's figured out that kids are quite eager to help at this age (she's in the room with 2-3 year olds) and so quite often when I come to pick her up, she'd give me a hug and then call out, "Harley, can you get me my bag please?" And little Harley toddles towards the cubby holes, picks up The Girlie's bag and brings it to us. "Thank you Harley!" The Girlie says loudly and with a big smile, "Thank you bringing my bag!"
And now today I looked at The Man and wondered if... I know where The Girlie gets it from ;)
We were getting ready to go shopping, the kids already had their shoes and hats on, and The Man was the only one still sorting out his clothes'n'things. As he was ruffling up his 'puffa vest' (duck down vest) he called out to The Girlie, "Can you get daddy his shoes please?" and off The Girlie went, picking up daddy's shoes and bringing them to him.
And I looked, and laughed, and said out loud that I think I know where The Girlie gets her habits from.
About an hour later as we were returning home, The Man flipped this argument back at me when The Girlie jumped into a puddle, fell over, and promptly made all her clothes wet. "I wonder who she gets that from?" The Man laughed and I had to agree.
I mean... she's like a tank, that girl. And from all I know, I used to be one, too.
I even said to a workmate yesterday afternoon that I have a feeling that for the next few years I am going to focus on keeping The Girlie alive for she has an amazing determination but not yet enough brains to back that up with.
That puddle-jumping-falling-over situation, for example: I said to The Man how, when I was 7, I stood on the side of a large hole city contractors had dug to repair the water mains - it was filled with water after heavy rains - and amused myself by pushing bits of mud into water and watching them float away and sink.
And one moment the muddy ground gave away underneath me and I, too, ended up in that hole, swimming, and then struggling to get out for the muddy sides were slippery. But I did get out, and then ran to my grandmother's house, soaked and muddy.
My grandmother rang my parents, who were at work, and then basically entertained me for the afternoon whilst I was wrapped in some of her clothes and in the evening when my parents had picked up some clean dry clothes for me from home, they picked me up, and took me home.
My parents' lives were filled with stories like that as I was growing up. Filled.
And now there she is, my beautiful daughter, so oh-so-amazingly bright and determined, but not yet filled with much common sense or much caution. She likes being challenged, and thrives on attention and, apart from when she's asleep, she's filled with drive to do things.
She's asking me when she can go to school, like The Kid. I say she has to wait two more years - she's 3. She puffs up and goes, "Bugger."
I know where she gets that from, too ;)