"There was a little girl
who had a little curl
right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good
she was very, very good
and when she was bad she was horrid." ???
Yeah, that's my daughter. A bit manic. She can be sweeter than sweet when she wants to be as the norm, but more and more often lately there are times where I invoke the name of Jesus to come and take the demons away from her. Whoo, Nelly, can she throw a fit.
In times of her...ahem...angst, I talk to her about having a happy heart. A few weeks back, a fit began to emerge and I warned her to calm down. "Have a happy heart, please." Her response with the Big Scowl: "No, I have SCREAMING heart."
Toddlers sure have a visceral way with the verbiage, don't they? I would never have thought to verbalize it in those particular words, but there are days when I have a 'screaming heart' too.
* * * * *
Aside from the purposeful disobedience are those moments of curiosity paired with the mobility of a taller-than-average toddler who can reach things she's not meant to reach, leading to mess and madness. I realize with dread that one of those moments has arrived when the house is too quiet. Like when she plucked my eyeliner pencil off my bathroom counter and proceeded to draw clown lines around her mouth. Or, in this instance yesterday, when I arrived downstairs to find she had raided Boscoe's dry food container in the pantry to shovel scoop after scoop of food into his dish, into his water, and around the floor. He of course was enormously pleased by this turn of events and taking quick advantage of it when I came upon the scene.
* * * * *
Out of the blue in the car a few weeks ago, she calls to me from the
backseat: "Mama, you marry Daddy?"
Hmm, random. Where is this coming
from? "Yes, sweetie, I
did."
A pause. "You tuck him in ni-night?"
Well, yes, I guess that's one of the associated perks...
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