What Can I Say? ? ? ? ?

Anybody?

Sometimes you just have to roll with the punches.  Or grin and nod and get a wash cloth out and clean up the beautiful mess.   I say beautiful, because that is what she, in her eyes, made herself.  I say mess because, well, that is what it was. 

I rarely, if ever, have problems at nap time with the Itty Bitty little thing.  Zip.  Nada.  None.   So I guess I shouldn't complain when she throws a stick in my spokes.  What are the odds that today would be that day.  Didn't get that memo. 

I chose to defy the odds.  I opted to call Donna and chat about my "goings ons".   I rarely talk on the phone to any length.  I felt safe.  Confident.  Unsuspecting.  But, you can't trust a 3 year old ~ ever. I didn't get that memo either.  I could hear movement on the monitor, but not anything that would alarm me or cause me to peek in.  That is, until about four or five minutes passed and the movement was still moving.   I wander on up. Should have went sooner.  That'll learn me.  The hard way.  I could smell her before I got to the door.  I peeked in.  I did not see Itty Bitty.  I called her name.  She pops up from beside the twin bed.  She states without hesitation:

"I don't have nuthin'.   I'm not doin' anything."

 

Have I ever shared that she lies?   (and steals) 

How can I say that and why would I?

Here's why I can and why I would:

 

She had snagged Reasy Peacy's make-up, lotion and spray from her bag and had at it. 

 

Let me remind you ~ I could smell her before I saw her, and when I saw her:

 

I couldn't laugh

I couldn't yell at her (I did scold her)

I couldn't breath

 

She is a beautiful mess.

 

I clean her up, removed the bag and sent her back to bed with strict instructions not to move.

She went right to sleep.  

 I just wonder what she dreamt about. 

 

My beautiful mess.

I shall keep her.