It first started when we brought our cats home nine years ago. I'd say to Rich, "Um, Dad, a little more over-priced prescription "weight management" food in the bowl, please."
He'd say, "Mom, I could use to be brushed, because if you let any more hair clumps develop, I'll need to be shaved like the cat down the street."
Yes, we gave our three cats voices and we talk to eachother through them.
And most of the time, we are quite pleasant about it. Sure, there is some strongly worded advice from the "cats" about the condition of a litter box or two ("Mom, clean it now or I'll take to shitting in your bed"), or a disagreement about whose turn it is to clean up the pile of vomit next to the shoe tree ("Dad, according to the tally sheet on the fridge, Mom has cleaned up the last 13 piles. Your turn") but by and large, our cat voices are kind.
Not so with the voice we've now given to our 9 month old.
Sure, it began all sugary-sweet: "Daddy, I love it when you read me Goodnight Moon. You're the best Daddy ever."
Or
"Mommy, these peaches you spent an hour steaming, peeling, and pureeing are just delicious. I'm so lucky to have you as my mom."
But our daughter's "voice" has quickly taken on more sinister, and much more passive-aggressive tones.
Here are some examples of what Isabella's been "saying" lately:
"Daddy, Mommy would like to take a shower. Maybe you wouldn't mind playing with me instead of your PS2 since you haven't seen me since last Wednesday."
"Mommy, I know you "work" and take care of me all day long too, but perhaps you'd like to do the dishes that are piling up in the sink so the mold that's growing on them doesn't crawl up the stairs and into my crib to smother me while I sleep. Oh, and by the way, have some caffeine. You're cranky."
He'd say, "Mom, I could use to be brushed, because if you let any more hair clumps develop, I'll need to be shaved like the cat down the street."
Yes, we gave our three cats voices and we talk to eachother through them.
And most of the time, we are quite pleasant about it. Sure, there is some strongly worded advice from the "cats" about the condition of a litter box or two ("Mom, clean it now or I'll take to shitting in your bed"), or a disagreement about whose turn it is to clean up the pile of vomit next to the shoe tree ("Dad, according to the tally sheet on the fridge, Mom has cleaned up the last 13 piles. Your turn") but by and large, our cat voices are kind.
Not so with the voice we've now given to our 9 month old.
Sure, it began all sugary-sweet: "Daddy, I love it when you read me Goodnight Moon. You're the best Daddy ever."
Or
"Mommy, these peaches you spent an hour steaming, peeling, and pureeing are just delicious. I'm so lucky to have you as my mom."
But our daughter's "voice" has quickly taken on more sinister, and much more passive-aggressive tones.
Here are some examples of what Isabella's been "saying" lately:
"Daddy, Mommy would like to take a shower. Maybe you wouldn't mind playing with me instead of your PS2 since you haven't seen me since last Wednesday."
"Mommy, I know you "work" and take care of me all day long too, but perhaps you'd like to do the dishes that are piling up in the sink so the mold that's growing on them doesn't crawl up the stairs and into my crib to smother me while I sleep. Oh, and by the way, have some caffeine. You're cranky."
"Daddy, I've been ridin' dirty here for the past two hours. I'm sure that Pause button on our DVR still works, and if not, chances are you won't die from missing five minutes of Sportscenter."
"Mommy, I don't think it's nice of you to call me "Miserbella," "Dr. Destructo," and "little shit" all in the span of 30 seconds. Clearly, this is why "ma-ma" has disappeared from my vocabulary, and has been rightfully replaced with "da-da." Are you sure you're my mother? Can I see my birth certificate?"
Babies bring magic to a marriage, don't they?
You are SO funny! and you bring back memories (some are not so good, like no showers) of how it is to be the mother of a baby!
OH MY GOD! Mike and I do this too. I thought we were the only ones. We make Maddy "talk" all the time. We've often said, "What would people think if they heard us?"
HAHAHAHAH! She has her own little personality-- sarcastic and funny-- through us!
Funny... Brody "says" many of those very same things... just replace the PS2 with the XBox, and the dishes with the laundry and it's like you had a microphone in our house! =)
Oh yes, the endearing "Little shit" nickname....we might have used that one a time or two recently!!
That is hilarious! And I'm stealing "Miserbella" or in my cousin's case "Miserbel," the next time I see her.
That is so funny! We do that too, but now the babe actually talks, so he says some of those things himself!
This is hilarious! I'm so glad to see you two have maintained your grown up humor. "Miserbella"? Genuius!
OMG all i can do is laugh...
Cute! I just might have to try this...
That is so cute! Greg and I have started calling each other mama and papa, when no one else is around.
Miserbella?! OMG! You are hilarious!
It's sort of like therapy, using Isabella's "voice" as the vehicle!