In keeping with the recent “Convos With My 2-Year-Old” meme, I submit an array of recent typical conversations with my lovely companion, Georgia.

Some of Georgia’s key attributes include: 1. the ability to find a pointing finger photo-bombing a picture hilarious and 2. the ability to find contentment in eager, tenacious repetition. I’ve provided context for each conversation but you should also know that Georgia also has a tremendous capacity for generalizing these conversations in different contexts.

She’s also at that unique and difficult age – the “terrible tweens.” It has all the characteristics of the early tween years (a craving for independence, the desire to choose everything, a generalized loathing of all things your mother tells you to do). Along with that, it has the characteristics of the terrible twos. The tantrum-like responses, the innate ability to turn mild emotion into something gone completely haywire, the recognition of what helps you get the stuff you want once you realize you actually want something.

Add a bit of early teenage hormones to the mix and … well, you see where I’m going here.

Keep in mind that if I’ve remembered a conversation enough to provide an account of it here, it is VERY likely that I’ve had that same conversation at least six thousand, four hundred and fifty-three times. Or thereabouts.

Every Single Meal Since Georgia Turned 13

Me: “You asked for juice. Here’s some juice for you.”

[Reader: feel free to substitute “juice” with “cheese” or “milk” or “apples” or “carrots” etc]

Georgia: “No thank you. I don’t like juice. Ummm, I HATE juice.”

Me: “Uhhh, okay. Don’t drink it then. No problem. Up to you.”

Georgia: (eye roll) (lays head on table) (lifts head slowly) *gulp gulp gulp*

Almost Every Single Night Since She Turned 13

Me: “It’s time for bed, Georgia.”

Georgia: “I hate bed. I don’t want to go to bed. I want to PLAY!!!”

Me: (feigning okayness with that) “Okay, well don’t worry about bed then.”

Georgia: “Ohhhh I wanna go to bed! ARGH! I’m so tired!”

Me: “Okay cool, let’s go to bed then if you’re tired!”

Georgia: (falls to floor in a heap) “Oh, I’m so DISAPPOINTED! I’m not tired! I’m dead.”

Dinnertime

Me: “Hey George, your favourite dinner is ready!!”

Georgia: (yell of frustration) “No! I don’t want dinner!! I want to play!”

Me: “Okay well, then, just come when you’re ready. It might be cold, but hey.”

Georgia: “Oh I’m so hungry! I’m sooooo starving!!”

Me: (confused pause) “Well then come. Eat! And then play!”
Georgia: “No! I don’t want dinner! I want to play! I’m soooo hungry! Argh!!!” (head on desk in frustration)

Me: (sigh)

Every School Day Morning at 7:35 am

Me: “Georgia, put your arms in your shirt here.”

Georgia: “The finger in the picture is funny, isn’t it, mommy?”

Me: “Focus. Concentrate. Put your arms in the shirt.”

Georgia: “The pointing finger is SO funny, isn’t it?” (guffaws)

Me: “Arms in shirt, Georgia. You’re going to be late.”

Georgia: “But the finger is so funny, mommy. Yes, it’s so so funny.”

Me: “It’s funny once. Only once. Really. Arms. In. Shirt. Please.”

Georgia: “Oh it’s so funny. Harrison, Harrison, it’s so funny.”

Me: “Georgia, if you don’t get this shirt on, you will miss the bus. Arms in shirt. PLEASE.”

Georgia: “The finger, oh yes, the finger is so funny. And the shopping cart. The shopping cart is SO funny.”

Me: “Huh? What? The shopping cart? Huh? Oh, I don’t know. I guess it’s funny. Sure, yes. Whatever. It’s funny. ARM. IN. NOW.”

Georgia: “The shopping cart fell over. It’s soooo funny. And the finger. The pointing finger is funny. Oh mommy, it’s soooo funny.” (chuckling)

Me: “Yes, it’s funny. Thank you for putting your shirt on.” (tired sigh)

Georgia: “Oooohhhh I don’t want a shirt!!!! I wanted a dress!!!!!”

Every School Day Morning at 7:45 am

Me: “Georgia, you need to finish your cereal. You’re late. Eat a bite.”

Georgia: “When’s the spring concert?”

Me: “You know when it is. We talked about this. Three weeks away. 21 sleeps. Eat your cereal. Eat. Please.”

Georgia: “The spring concert is at 6, right? Right after dinner, right?”

Me: “Eat your cereal, Georgia.”

Georgia: “We’re going to the spring concert, right? After dinner, right?”

Me: “No, you’ll get dinner there. You know this. We’ve been talking about this since February. 21 sleeps. Georgia. Cereal. NOW. ”

Georgia: “Okay, so we’re going to the spring concert tonight, now, after dinner. Good. Chris, you’ll wear a tie.“

On A Recent Road Trip From Ottawa, Somewhere On The 401

Georgia: “Hey, this is just like a bus ride, right?”

Me: “Well kind of, I guess, but way better, I think. It’s our car and not a bus. And you get good music.”

Georgia: “But it’s like a bus ride.”

Me: “Okay sure. I guess.”

Georgia: “It’s like a bus ride. On a ziggy bus!”

Me: “Huh? Sure, it’s like that. I don’t know…What’s a ziggy bus, sweetie?”

Georgia (emphatically): “A ZIGGY bus. This is like riding on a ziggy bus.”

Me: “Um, yeah, okay, but I still don’t know what a ziggy bus is.”

Georgia: “Bob Marley. His dad. A Ziggy Marley bus!”

Looking in the rearview mirror, I see a bopping figure with a smiling face wearing sunglasses, and a reggae-blaring iPod.

In A Very Large Elevator With Her Mother and A Total Stranger

Georgia: “It’s sooooo squished in here.”

Me: “No, no it’s not really squished. There’s lots of room.”

Georgia: “I’m really squished. And that’s a stranger.”

Me: “Yes, Georgia, that is a stranger.”

Me to Stranger (smiling): “We’re learning about strangers right now.”

Georgia: “You shouldn’t talk to strangers.”