Camille, annoyed at me for some disciplinary infraction I bestowed, looked at me with a dangerous gleam in her eye and held up something between her two little fingers.
"Oh yeah?" she said, "Do you want me to put this bead up my nose?"
She may have been wearing this self-selected ensemble when she threatened me.
I was getting ready for Church on Sunday and I couldn't hear Camille. Silence is never a good sign and my mama instinct said, "Find her. Now."
I was right to be concerned because she had discovered and was using the rest of the Calamine lotion. (John has had an awful case of poison ivy; it's so bad, the doctor finally prescribed him steroids.)
This is how her legs looked when I tracked her down, though her torso and hands were also dripping with pink potion:
"I scratchy all over, Mama."
She had emptied the bottle and smelled like a medicine cabinet for the rest of the day.
The little darling has also learned how to climb out of her crib. At first I was in denial about this unfortunate developmental delay (because I have a new baby coming and the last thing I need is a toddler walking around the house at all hours of the night!) but when the little Houdini escaped at least 3 times, I could no longer ignore the cold, hard facts.
She likes to announce her presence by opening her door and exclaiming (loudly),
"Everyone, I waked up!"
John is going to set up Camille's toddler bed this weekend.
Toddler bed = Freedom for Camille; Nighttime and naptime hell for me.
One of her favorite conversations starters (which she pulls out at least 3-4 times a day) of late:
"Dad, you have a penis and I have a vagina. Girls have vaginas, boys have penises." She then proceeds to use the anatomically correct words to describe genitalia as loudly and as frequently as possible.
I'm praying she doesn't initiate this conversation in public. We know how those scenarios play out when Duggans are involved.