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“I’m Having Such A Good Time”

If you’re an adult and you say hello to Weevy, she automatically thinks you want to take her toys, and greets you with a petulant “No!” and a pout and glare.  I have no idea why she believes this.  But it’s the case, and why anyone in our building still says hello to her is beyond me.

Occasionally, however, she will glom onto an adult for, as far as I can tell, no reason.  This happened last week with my new friend F., who stopped by the playground to pick up something for me and to meet Weevy for the first time.  She was suspicious at first, but within seconds, they were happily chatting.  Their meeting of the minds only lasted about 15 minutes, but it was enough for Weevy to pout when F. had to say goodbye; she asked for hours afterward, “Where’s F?”  “I want F. to come to my home.”  “I want to play with F.”

Well, F. stopped by the other day.  The night before, she gave me gifts to give to Weevy — a big bag of gummy bears and a little Hello Kitty battery-powered fan.  Clearly, F. knows how to win a kid’s heart.  Weevy wasn’t in the greatest mood, but within ten minutes or so, this conversation happened.

“You’re F.?”

“Yep, I am.”

“Did you buy me this?” (Points to a Lalaloopsy bus that F. did not buy her)

“No, I think maybe Mommy and Daddy bought that for you.”  I interject: “Mommy’s friend M. bought you that, remember?”

“Yeah.” (To F.) “Mommy’s friend M. bought me that.”

“I bought you the gummy bears and the fan though.”

“Yes, you bought me those.”


“I’m having such a good time.”

And then came out the big guns, her most precious possessions in the world.

“F., these are my Lalaloopsy dolls.  They have names.”  And she went one by one through the entire roster, which by now must be about 438 characters.  I don’t think she let F. touch them, but just to initiate her into the world of Lalaloopsy land… well, that’s huge.  Weevy showed F. everything she could think of:  “F., this is my juice cup.”  That sort of thing.  And to top it all off, she pooped.  In front of a veritable stranger.  A big, nasty, smelly, messy poop that took forever to come out.  That is the ultimate sign of friendship and trust in Weevyworld, and to think F. accomplished it in a week and two meetings.

Or maybe V. just really needed to poop.  But I think it was something more than that, too.


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