Diamonds are a Pepper's Best Friend.

This is an actual conversation between me and the Pepper at our favorite local restaurant. Let me set the stage:

Cheeburger Cheeburger is a small chain of 50/60’s family-style sock-hop looking restaurants. Along with the music of the time, they have life-size cardboard cutout of various people, including James dean, Betty Boop and Marilyn Monroe. Pepper, two years old is eating her French fries when she spies the Marilyn Monroe cutout on the back door of the restaurant.

Pepper: Look! (Pointing at Marilyn) Dat me!

Me: That’s not you; that’s Marilyn Monroe.

Pepper: No, dat’s ME! Look, she have strong arms. (She flaps her arms delicately like a bird.) I have strong arms. She have a pretty, pretty dress. I have a pretty, pretty dress. She have…(Pepper opens her mouth and points to her teeth)…big teeth and a smile. I have big teeth and a smile. She have long hair. I have long hair.

Me: You don’t have long hair. And your hair is red, sweetie.

Pepper: (Undaunted-) She have nose, and cheeks and ears! I have nose, cheeks and ears.
Pepper: Gasp- LOOK! She have little, little shoes. I have little, little shoes! Dat me!
The last line was delivered with such authority; there was no denying her argument.

Me: Ok, that’s you.

Pepper: I go touch me.

At which point she ran over and gently rubbed the arm of Marilyn.

Pepper: (To the three tables of people who had heard the conversation and were now watching her every move.) DAT ME!

Sigh.

One of the greatly endearing habits of The Pepper is that since she has been able to talk, she has referred to ice cream as "happy." Regardless of the Land Baron's obsession with the frozen dairy goodness, he did not actually teach Pepper to call it this. After dinner she asks for happy, walking through the grocery store in the ice cream aisle, she joyfully points to each container as we walk by; happy, happy, happy, happy. It's always been happy to her.

On a side note, the Land Baron's obsession with ice cream is so strong that he has it every. single. night. We have come home from plenty of large feasts, putting away food that in caloric count, could feed most of the state of Deleware and he will walk through the door, go directly to the freezer and take out the carton. When the Pickle was testing to get into Pre-K 3, she answered an analogy question like this:

Teacher: We eat breakfast in the morning and at night we eat....
Pickle: Ice Cream!

Afterwards, the Land Baron felt the need to explain to the teacher that at 2 1/2 years old, the Pickle didn't always get around to eating her dinner, but she did have ice cream every night with her father and therefore understood the concept of the question.

Yesterday however, was a sad day in our house. After dinner, Pepper walked to the fridge and said "Ice cream please." and I said, "Happy?" and she said, "No ice cream." The Land Baron saw my sad, "I can't believe we're losing this part of her to growing up face" that I seem to have mastered over the last several years and said "I didn't want to tell you, but she asked me for 'ice cream' yesterday too. I was hoping if I ignored it, she'd forget that she said it."

Sigh....