We have developed another funny catchphrase around the house, based on Olivia's exploits. It's "peanut work." We use it in a sentence just the way you would use the word "work."
Every time Claus says it to me, it still catches me off guard, and cracks me up. I came out of my home office and he said, "Did you finish your peanut work?"
Last year, we were in Paris with Olivia, who was two at the time. In the hotel room, the mini-bar is strategically positioned at child's-eye level. She looked inside and saw candy and snacks, and helped herself to it one evening.
We had no idea this was happening. We were jet-lagged and exhausted and we plopped on the bed after another long day of sightseeing. After a bit, I tried to round her up for a shower. "Not now, Mama. I'm doing my work," she begged off.
Our standard answer is, "Just one more minute."
After a minute, I called for her again. "No, I'm working." She was hiding in the closet. I thought she was playing with her toys.
"What kind of work, Honey?" I asked.
"I'm just... I'm just doing my peanut work," she replied.
Finally, the water was ready, and I could no longer wait. I opened the closet door and saw her sitting on the ground, with a half eaten Mars bar, and her mouth completely smudged with chocolate. There was also a silver, vacuum-sealed bag of peanuts that she had tried to rip into. The cardboard box was clawed at and shredded like a rat had gotten to it. She was trying to open the bag, hence her peanut work.
(I'd show you the photos but my memory card corroded in Europe.)
I was so amused I couldn't be mad. The two items cost us like, 10 bucks or something ridiculous, but looking back, it's paid for itself with all the mileage we've gotten out of it.
On that note, I better sign off. I'm really busy. I have a lot of peanut work to do.
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