Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Pack Rat

What a difference a month makes!

Meg is growing up so fast. She starts school in two weeks. Her vocabulary is exploding. She sleeps in her own "big girl" bed. Potty training is done. Her tastes are turning from Disney Princesses (disturbing) to Alvin and the Chipmunks (annoying).

Oh, and she is turning into Navin R. Johnson.

You know, the Steve Martin character from '"The Jerk."

I'm not saying this because she was born a poor black child. I mean, the black part, yes, but her circumstances really don't qualify for less than "lower middle class."

I'm not saying this because she has a fascination with the phone book. Hell, I don't think she would know a phone book if it came up and bit her. We, like most Americans now take the phone book(s) straight from the porch to the recycling bin, stopping maybe to take off the crappy magnet on the front. Meg may eventually get excited about a school directory, but definitely not a phone book.

So, what is it about Meg that makes her so "Navinesque?"

She has to take everything with her.

Every morning, as Meg leaves the house, she picks up things she just can't do without. Why can't she do without them? Because she saw them as she was leaving the house.


It started slowly at first.

A stuffed animal.

A blanket.

An extra pair of shoes.

A coloring book.

Then, before we knew it, Meg was heading out the door with two dolls, every stuffed bunny in the house, two pairs of princess high heels, three pacifiers, a box of fruit snacks, a DVD of "Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang" and a child sized plastic chair.

I like to think the chair is an homage to the movie.

This morning was a bit better, but her Dad still couldn't get her out without her musical stuffed seahorse, a kazoo, a magnifying glass, and several strands of Mardi Grad beads.

Now, I know some of think Meg must be taking these things with her because she wants to take a long the comforts of home as she heads out into the big, cold, cruel.

Yeah, no. We don't drop her off at the Greyhound station.

That "big, cold cruel world" is her grandmother's house -- otherwise known as the kid Hilton. Oh, and when she's not there she's with my aunt, otherwise known as the kid Hyatt. Seriously, what she is doing is like packing up the lamps at the Motel 6 so she has something to amuse herself while she's waiting for room service.

Maybe it's our fault. Ryan and I are notorious over packers. On our recent week long trip to Big Sur  we took three suitcases. No, we probably didn't need our scuba gear, but we were on the coast, and it is 2012, and you can't be too careful. Also, I packed all of those ziplock bags because you don't know what you might encounter outside of Utah. After all, in California they sell wine in the grocery store. 

Whatever the origin, I am hoping this "Jerk" phase leads to bigger and better things. A love of Cyrano perhaps, a love of art collecting, a devotion to bluegrass music, or maybe even several SNL hosting gigs. Hopefully not a love of movies that bring Bonnie Hunt from a feminist comic icon to a schlocky punch line.

And if none of those things happen?

Well, at least she isn't emulating "Smokey and the Bandit."


for a different kind of girl said...

Can she perhaps come to my house and walk out with my husband's assorted Star Trek Christmas ornaments, NASCAR toy cars (which, I mean, he doesn't even watch NASCAR...), the assorted tools he never uses, some old DVDs...

Listen, I'll just make up a list and leave the door unlocked. What she can grab is her's. My house will get cleaned out and bonus! New treasures for Meg!

Anonymous said...

Mea does this on a daily basis as well. This behavior is what typically leads to the backseat of my car looking like Toys R Us vomited up the clearance section back there.

Since Mea is 6 and we are still carrying on in this way, you are doomed my friend.

Granny Annie said...

Meg stories are just to great to ignore. Laughing, laughing, I'm laughing some more.

Jen said...

E loves to bring things with her. Lately, it's a stuffed animal, a keychain, a rag (seriously), and usually some sort of chew toy... for the stuffed animal. The rag is for cleaning while she's in the booster seat. The keychain is for annoying the crap out of me.

DC Diva said...

This post is hilarious. And oh so true. Bless those cute pack rats.

Anonymous said...

I like the eternal optimism of The Jerk. Even when being shot at he's convinced the gunman "Hates these CANS! HE HATES THESE CANS!" Still can't go to the gas station without saying that.
My kids had a teacher that got all uppity about kids "bringing stuff" to class. Meanwhile after a week she had a kid riot on her hands after they all revolted and refused to leave their "favorite" stuff home.

harriet glynn said...

*LOL* With Theo, it's a case of how many monsters can I squeeze in this truck and who's going to carrying it all for me?