To begin, let me explain that she is fascinated by the sudden appearance of body hair on Ryan. While at the pool a few weeks ago she was thrilled to tell everyone within earshot about her latest discovery: her brother's armpit hair. "Ryan, did you know you have hair growing under your arms? That's sooo gross . . . Mom, did you see Ryan's hair under his armpits . . . ewww, have you see all the hair on his legs . . . do girls get hair on under their arms and legs? . . . ok, so girls shave it off, but boys and dads get to keep it, right? . . . ok, so look at my legs, do I have hair, do I need to shave??!!" Seriously, she is obsessed and we haven't heard the end of it since swim season began, and now every time Ryan takes off his shirt, she immediately looks for the hair and informs anyone who will listen that it's still there. That is why I find this conversation we shared today so hilarious:
Liza: "Mom, you need to shave your armpits."
Me: "Yes Liza, you're right, I need to do that - I will when I take a shower this morning, thanks for the reminder."
Liza: "Ya, you better do it SOON because I really don't want a 'Momdad'?"
A "momdad" - nice one Liza, I suppose that means she doesn't want a manly mom - too much.
OK, next item of business, her obsession with turning into a negro. Yes, you heard it right, a black person, African American, whatever. It all started last weekend in St. George, when after our last day at the pool as she streaked through my parents' family room, both Ryan and Caroline pointed out that she was "black" - as in "you're so stinking tan that the contrast against your bright white butt makes your skin look SO dark." That's all it took, she went into hysterics, seriously, a complete tantrum (tears, screaming, etc.) that she didn't want to be "black" and that she shouldn't have stayed so long in the sun because now she is turning into a black person. I don't think we have ever laughed so hard - ever - it was absolutely the craziest, funniest thing I've ever experienced. Where that kid comes up with this stuff we'll never know, and she won't stop thinking about it either, every time she takes off her swimsuit she asks how close she is to becoming "black." You'll enjoy the conversation I had with her during sacrament meeting last Sunday:
Liza: (while reading the Friend magazine) "I think this little girl is what I'll end up looking like."
Me: (whispering) "Liza, for the 100th time, you're NOT going to turn into a black person!"
Liza: "Do you promise? Are you sure?"
Me: "Yes, I'm sure, will you stop with this already."
Liza: "OK, I think you're right, but I still need to not stay in the sun too long, just in case."
Alright, I just need to record this tidbit because it's just plain funny. Here's another enlightening conversation with our Elizabeth from a few months back:
Liza: "Mom, I want to be a horse."
Me: "Great Liza, a horse, why do you want to be a horse?" I'm thinking her answer would be something along the lines of: "I could jump and run through green pastures with the wind in my mane" or something quaint like that. Instead, this is what I got for an answer:
"So I won't have to wipe myself."
Go figure. Life would be so dull without this kid around!