Act 1. All of a sudden, William walked into the bathroom this morning, right as I was getting in the shower. He opened the mirrored door on the small wooden cabinet that holds all my toiletries and grabbed the brown plastic canister of my American Crew pomade. "Was machst du?" I asked. "Ich mache mein hair spikey," he answered, quite matter-of-factly. And with my pomade in hand, he left.
Act 2. Evie and William have grown fond of the word "poopie." Instead of fighting a losing battle, I play a long and have fun with them. We call each other "Poopie" as a sort of pet name: "Hi, Poopie" or "Gute Nacht, Poopie." It sounds cuter if you don't think about it. Occasionally William, and sometimes Evie, will call me Papi, which to my ears is very endearing (maybe it's a mix of Papa and puppy?).
Act 3. Somewhere along the line, soap got involved, and at times they just run around saying "poopy soap, poopy soap!" I have no idea where they got it, or what sense it's supposed to make, but they sure think it's funny. So this morning as I'm in the shower, Evie came into the bathroom for a moment, just like William, and then left. As soon as she closed the door behind her, she opened it quickly again, said "poopy soap" and closed it again.
40 minutes ago
