….it just keeps coming….

Sophie has been sick today.  She woke up gagging with congestion and threw up a few times.  She asked me to take a bath with her this evening.  I couldn’t resist those pitiful looking eyes.  First, I endured poking, prodding and giggling over unmentionables followed by (this is NOT a first, either), “I LIKE your fill-in-the-blank!”  Then, a sheepish grin was followed by, “I peed in the bath.”

Good times.

After the luxurious bath, she was standing on her handy-dandy-gonna’-do-a-WFMW-post-on stool, looking at herself in the mirror.  “Look at my pout, Mom,” she said.

“Why are you pouting, Sophie?”

“I’m angry!”

“Why are you angry, Sophie?”

“…oh be ceeer-ful liddle eyes what you HEAR (?), for the Fodder up above, looking down in LOOOOVVVVE….”

And that’s how many of our conversations go….

But I’ve saved the best (and scariest) for last.  Sophie has been getting in BIG trouble for climbing up the bar stools in the kitchen.  I’m told that she acts like her Nana did when she was little.  Nana was nick-named, “Cheeta”, after Tarzan’s monkey.  Well, “little Cheeta” left evidence of an adventure behind.  When I passed by the bar, something caught my eye.  A bottle of fiber was toppled over with its contents spilled out.  PLUS, her (empty) medicine dropper was next to it.  I know she gets a little constipated, but this was a bit much. 😉  She had to reach over the bar to the counter below on the other side to get that fiber and medicine dropper.  And apparently, fiber bottles are not childproof and neither are most vitamins.  In all seriousness, the vitamin basket (which does happen to contain a few daily meds) will find a new home.

Thanks for the material, Sophie. 😉

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