A LITTLE BROWN PAINT…
Madeleine appears at my side, “I have paint, Mom.” She is showing me her index finger, “I have paint.”
I squint to shift my focus from the computer screen to her little hand, “Ohhh, that’s poop.”
“No. Paint, Momma. Paint,” she insists.
As I clean her up she sings, “How I wonder what you are….”
“No, no. Can you stop that!” Madeleine shouts.
“Oh, ok. I can’t sing?”
“No,” she says curtly. “Twinkle, twinkle wittle star….”
I didn’t think my voice was that bad, although I can guarantee without meeting Celine Dion that she does not consider me to be competition.
YOU DON’T NEED THAT PATCH OF BACK HAIR, DO YOU?
I have a bandaid on my back because the dermatologist removed a “suspicious” mole. My little lovely came up behind me this morning and ripped the bandaid off in one swoop. Not that I have an especially hairy back (although it felt like I do), but yowza that wasn’t a pain-free moment.
“Ouch! Madeleine, that hurt Mommy!”
“Sowwy, Mom. I got your bandaid.”
“I see that. Thank you.”
“K’i keep it?”
“Hmmm, maybe next time,” I said as I removed the funky, used bandaid from my bandaid-obsessed daughter’s hand. Lately they’re all she thinks about.
GET A LIFE, LADY…
I have a challenge for you, and I bet you won’t be able to do it. In our house we seem to go through a lot of paper towels. They’re recycled paper towels (which slightly lessens my guilt about using trees to make my life easier) and they’re not cheap. I challenge you to use just one sheet to wipe up a spill or clean the the buttery mouth of your little one. Yesterday, I spied my husband grabbing a wod of paper towels to clean a very small mess.
“Whoa! Now I know where all my paper towels go. You use way too much. Can’t you just use one sheet?”
Michael didn’t have time to respond.
“That’s why I run out of paper towels in the middle of the week,” I continued, “and I have to make another trip to Trader Joe’s.”
Michael made the Who set you off, today face he sometimes makes when I unexpectedly lash out with a slightly unreasonable criticism. There are times when, admittedly, I bring the crazy to the party. I’m not proud of it, but it’s true.
“If you used one sheet we would double the lifespan of the package of paper towels. I’m just saying. You’re the one who says I spend too much at the store. And let’s not even mention how much toilet paper you use.”
I’m sure if my husband didn’t love me (surprising at times that he does) and adore me (maybe he’s repenting for something bad he did in a previous lifetime) that he would say Get a life, lady. Maybe he’s afraid to provoke the beast. I’m not really sure.