My nearly two-year old loves to throw things. She has no preference really to what she picks up and whips. Hailley throws paper, pencils, books, toys, balls, keys, garbage, food, socks, shoes, underwear and herself when she feels the need. She often accompanies this action with running in the opposite direction of the individual who so desires the item she possesses. As the person who suffers the most from this, I strongly dislike her hurling action. I try to put on my Mary Poppins face and nicely tell her not to run away with my stuff, but she does anyway. I choke down the urge to yell at her cherubic little face when she whips it across the room out of reach as I'm feeding the baby. I bite my lip to discourage myself from going into her room and throwing all HER stuff-let's see how she likes a taste of her own medicine!! I sit back and remember that I am the adult, whether or not I feel like it.
As you can probably guess, many, many household things are lost after they leave Hailley's chubby little fingers and are launched into space. Most recently was my mini stapler that I use for my college classes. The thing simply disappeared. I searched everywhere to no avail. I knew though. I knew who was behind the crime. Without any evidence though, I couldn't prove her guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.
I recently removed the baby bassinet from beside our bed. Do you know what I found where the bassinet once was? Of course you do, and I certainly should have known too. A slipper! The slipper that the entire family spent time searching for a month ago, all in vain. And right next to that prodigal slipper? My stapler.
No comments:
Post a Comment