Monday, November 3, 2008

Miss Miyo Mess and the art of the run on sentence



I was making Baking Powder Biscuits today. Miyo was playing in the little kitchen, slamming doors and tossing around little toy utensils. I had my hands in the dough and was kneading it on a floured counter so I could roll it out. I look up and see Miyo with a little play measuring spoon and my nutmeg, dill, cloves and ground mustard in a nice big pyramid on the floor. The empty containers were rolling around next to her. I have to say it smelled like delicious pumpkin pie as I vacuumed it up. When I told her we needed to get the vacuum out to vacuum it up. She ran, super-happy, towards the bathroom, singing, "Take a baf, take a baf!" Sucks to be her, because she didn't have any on her, so I didn't give her one.

But now I am realizing she must not only love making the mess, but also she finds no punishment in the bath that comes afterwards. Her life is so great. I however feel achey from hunching over cleaning it up, then cleaning her off, peeling of the dirty clothes without making more of a mess, putting her in the tub, and washing her off. And depending on what she was in, trying to get it out of her hair without having to shampoo her too many times.

On the bright side for me: she loves emptying the dishwasher, whether the dishes are clean or dirty. She loves talking on the phone and throwing it when I approach to hang it back in the cradle. She likes to empty her dresser drawers and put on as many pairs of underwear (that I bought for when its time to potty train) that she can get on. She loves to type hardcore on the keyboard and click the mouse and slam the pullout table they are on when I walk in the room. She likes to open my makeup and put my brushes in them and powder the whole bathroom counter. She loves to paint the side of the toilet and half the floor of the bathroom with a brand-new $5 tube of toothpaste. She likes to get under the kitchen sink and touch the icky things under there. She doesn't mind when I discover all her hairbands and barrets in all the cardboard middles of the toilet paper under the bathroom sink. She loves to take the mess of paperwork on the desk, page by page and throw it on the floor. She LOVES to scream a fake scream of anger when told no.

Her days are always busy, whether she's painting the counter with yogurt, or emptying Murphy's cereal on the living room floor and dancing on the mess. As I type she sits beside me slapping the telephone and saying, "Shut up." Then she screams shrill and long. Then slaps it again and says, "Shut up, shut up." Then she sings, arms wide, and turns on and off the printer. I think these are all the reasons she is my favorite girl in the whole world.

5 comments:

Kim said...

Mine, too, next to Hanna. I sure miss the little stinker.

Anonymous said...

What you should do is take away her bath toys so she just has to sit there getting shampooed and doesn't think it's fun.

anna said...

awwwwwww..
almost makes me cry! Now don't make me all "broody" kasey.

Anonymous said...

Sounds like she's unfortunately going to be like her mother. What? I'm here to balance the positive and negative. To much of either will create a charge that is bound to spark a Hot debate. Ah, speaking senslessness is my forte. or is it fort. darn french got me confused again. O yes, baths should be punishment. That will work out when your kids get on They're own. STINKERS!

Anonymous said...

I could have told you she is up to no good, when I look at the picture and see that impish look in her face.