Much the same as the dog wagging her tail when *Steve* punches out and comes home from work, *Mila* has her own special response to the button pushing. "Beep Beep" and ...
*Mila*: "Waaahhhh! I said it's the water's fault for me choking and it forced me to swallow it down the wrong pipe Mom!"
Me: "*Mila*, you cannot breathe in when you put your face in the water!"
*Mila*: "I SAID IT'S THE WATER'S FAULT. DIDN'T YOU HEAR ME?"
Me: "*Steve*, she's all yours!"
Then I was approached by the mini-bully in the kitchen when she placed her three-year old hands on her three-year old hips and told me how it was again! I think her heard her utter something like this: "It is SO party night. And you can't be mad at me. It's your fault and you have to stop getting so mad at me! I didn't do anything and now I'm having party night...stomp! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!..."
When does this end? If she's doing this to me now, what will happen when she's 16? "I am SO taking the car! I don't care if I don't know how to drive and have a boyfriend who is 21. I am taking your car and I won't be home until Wednesday! MOM!" Gasp*! I'm going to pass out and will not be regaining any consciousness until 2059.
On a brighter note, she did ask me how to spell "RYE". I guess all that 'Trailer Park Boys' is finally kicking in! All that hard work I did when she was in the womb, cussing like Ricky, mispronouncing like Ricky, holding cat circuses like Bubbles, driving with mixed drinks like Julian. It paid off...be sure to click on the Etsy personifications of the TPBs.
signed, the willow
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