Visitors in the night

A tiny blonde angel approached as I woke up a little bit ago. She was wearing her red uniform shirt, a red paw print jacket and a blue tinkerbell backpack. And that's it. Really. She extends her hand and says, "Hi my name is Jolly Outlaw, and I'm one of Robin Hood's band of merry misfits. I just wanted to come and visit." What a great way to wake up!

Personal-ity

First day of taking the kiddo to school went great. The TA in the class came up to me, introduced herself and told me how much of a little comedian my darling has become. So much so that when she finishes her worksheets early, she gets to go the the aides desk to get something advanced to work on and entertain the aide. I'm so thrilled they aren't trying to squash her already larger than life little personality!

Volunteers?

You just know it's going to be good when your kidlet enters the room with her art box under one arm, a remote control robot under the other, wearing a chef's hat decorated in cherries, and announces that she'll be needing a volunteer for her next trick.

You put your finger where?

Last night, after dinner and all that jazz, I'm trying to get ready for work. Kiddo is happily ensconced in the middle of my bed watching bugs bunny movies and sucking her fingers, sniffing her boo's paw, whatever. Or at least I think she is. The next thing I know, mid mascara and all, she is howling like death is eminent. I run into the bedroom and what do I see? She has taken my hot pink water bottle, striped the straw out of the straw hole, finished my drink and has her middle finger stuck in the straw hole. Poor thing cannot get her finger back out to save her life and oh yes, the panic has set in. So I try to gently remove it... no dice. I unscrew the bottle from the top to make it lighter and less cumbersome and she thinks I'm trying to chop off her fingers. She won't stop screaming either. So I go find the Dad, he comes running and it takes all three of us, ice, vegetable oil, twisting and tugging to finally get the thing off her poor finger. And it takes off a little bit of skin with it. So yes there's a little blood, some antibiotics and a band aid. And I, the mom, have finally gotten to the point that minor childhood accidents (or stupidity) are no longer traumatic for me. I couldn't stop laughing at her. So all bandaged up, she's wandering around the house giving everyone (including feline and k9 occupants) the finger and proclaiming that she'll never ever again be able to play with any of her toys because her finger shall surely shrivel and fall off by morning... .and then something about her not being special anymore. She is now the official president of the kindergarten drama queen club. Omg... it was hysterical.