I could tell you that the mess on this child’s face isn’t crystalized sugar and donut cream…but why lie? I do remember a certain version of myself when I was like ‘my child won’t eat refined sugar blah blah something something.’ I had a point, there is a childhood obesity epidemic after all. But also…I have to let her LIVE life. And also, a donut keeps her in a seat at Mr. Donut for like 23 minutes.
Just ignore the devil/Satan television machine, and realize that my child is totally fixated by a hockey game. She claps when someone, anyone at all really, scores. She yells out when the crowd screams. And her dad beams. And I sit in the corner and read in peace and pretend I can’t hear hockey noises. It’s working for everyone.
I bought this garland in a classic, bad parenting moment at the 100yen shop after the baby had discovered it in the aisle we were browsing and started going absolutely bat shit crazy every time I tried to take it away from her so I simply bought it instead. That bat shit craziness continued when I tried to prevent her from destroying it at home. So she destroyed it. In the spirit of Christmas. I used a broom on it later.
Our child may have a slight dog obsession. I have no idea where it came from. And since our dear beloved dog babies are too many miles away to think about, I take her to the dog store so she can get her fix. A store clerk holding a puppy is like a hypnotist as far as this child is concerned, she can’t tear her eyes of them.
Last year the baby was a little blob in the arms of a very, VERY authentic Santa. This year she is a skeptic on the knee of not-so-convincing Santa-san. And instead of instantly rescuing her I left her in pure terror silent-scream-cry long enough for me to get a picture for her future wedding slide show. Poor traumatized thing.