On dictators and magic

Some of you may be wondering how I came up with such an interesting name for my site. Well, here’s the story.

Many many years ago, before iPads and Yo Gabba Gabba, this handsome young man rescued a beautiful woman from the rice paddies in a place called North Korea, which was ruled by a very bad man named Kim Jong Il. Okay, not really. But, my Mommy’s mommy (I call her hal-muh-nee) is from South Korea, which makes me 1/4 Korean.

When my Mommy was a teenager very small child, a movie called Team America: World Police was released. My Mommy thought that the Kim Jong Il character looked just like hal-muh-nee. Mommy was not very nice to her mommy, and she and my grandpa would make fun of hal-muh-nee and call her Kim Jong Il. See the resemblance?

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I know, I don’t either. My halmuhnee has much cooler glasses.

Anyway, the second part of the story is that around the time I turned three, Mommy and Daddy thought I acted like a dictator. Apparently, this Kim Jong Il guy was a dictator too. Some grownups talk about the “terrible two’s” but when I was two, I was really cool and didn’t have “tantrums.” When I turned three, I became the boss. I didn’t want to take my naps, I didn’t want to brush my teeth, I wanted to eat Sour Patch Kids all the time, and generally, I just wanted to do my own thing 50% of the time. 50% of the time I was a peach. So Mommy and Daddy started calling me Kim Jong Elle, and the name sort of stuck.

After a few months, Mommy and Daddy were fed up, but one day, Mommy’s friend told her about a book called 1-2-3 Magic. Mommy read the book in about two hours, and then she spent the next several weeks straightening me up. And you know what? It really was magic. I am so sweet now, but still sassy. Sometimes I feel like someone needs to count Mommy to get her off her iPhone, but I guess only grownups are allowed to do the counting.

So there you have it. I may not be a dictator anymore, but I’m still Korean and sometimes, I do what I want!

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