One Dollar Donation

Hanging out with a todder is like playing a never-ending game of Balderdash, except that you never get a turn. Bub simply comes up with all the nonsense and leaves me to guess at the definitions. Example:

Bub: (in the middle of lunch) Boo-hoo, why doesn’t anybody listen to me?

Me: Ohhhh, are you quoting Reginald von Hooby Dooby from Mo Willems Edwina the Dinosaur Who Was Extinct?

Bub: Yessss.

Sometimes they come easy. Sometimes they take longer to decipher, which makes for lively conversations and Freud-worthy word associations, as last night. I’m changing his diaper, he’s not being super-cooperative, and I’m a little too tired to sing my “Stop Squeezing Your Cheeks, Kid” ditty.

Me: Come on, Bub, just let me in there, please.

Bub: Ehhhhhh. No wipe, no wipe!

Me: I’ll be gentle, let’s just get this over with.

Bub: No wipe, no wipe!

Me: Dude, I don’t want you to itch all night. Let’s bust this out real quick.

Bub: One dollar donation.

Me: Excuse me?

Bub: One dollar donation, Daddy.

Me: I heard you, I just don’t have any cash…

Bub: Please!

Me: Well, technically, a donation is optional, Bub. I don’t have to…

Bub: ONE DOLLAR DONATION, DADDY!!!

Me: Ohhhhh. Wait, are you thinking about story time? And the suggested one dollar donation?

Bub: Yessssss.

[wipe wipe wipey wipe wipe] Me: Yeah, did Mommy give you a dollar for Ms. Linda?

Bub: Yes.

Me: Wow, nice work, Bub. Money well spent.

Bub: Yes.