Boom!

If you are wandering around the house in the middle of the night, you deserve to run into a wall or two. That's my theory and I fully support it, despite the fact that I have rammed my noggin into a wall just about every night for the past three weeks. (I SWEAR that hallway keeps moving. There is no other explanation.) Night lights? Pshaw. A good door to the face collision will have you seeing enough stars to light up the darkest night.

We don't need no stinkin' night lights.

And yet, somehow, I had a moment of weakness right after we moved to this house. In a moment of crazy, I decided to let the kid keep a light on while she was trying to fall asleep. About a week later, I was fed up with wasting enough electricity to light up Manhattan and took away the privilege.

Mr. Husband did not.

Actually, he could not.

There are many ways that Alexis manipulates her dear daddy, and that is one of them. She can absolutely fall asleep without any lights on (she's been doing it her entire life), but she will. not. do. it for him. At all.

Which just makes this whole thing even more insane:

The tent. She was supposed to get the tent for Christmas last year, but then we didn't feel like setting up her twin bed. Lazy who? Oh yeah, lazy us.

The sleep mask. The sleep mask was one of the accessories that came with the tent. I can tell you that the tent makes it pretty dark, but that mask? Makes it a total blackout.

But OF COURSE she still wants the light on. It's the only way for her to know that her tent and mask are actually working.

Or something.

I bet she still sees stars when she smacks into a wall.

Grateful for the Little Things

Is there anything better than . . .

. . . Cruising down the road with the roof open, music blaring, and singing at the top of your lungs in unison with your kid?

. . . Arriving home from work and unexpectedly discovering that there are REAL stairs and a REAL sidewalk in your front yard, and that the Stairs of Doom can officially be disassembled?

. . . Standing in the paper goods aisle in Target and realizing that since you now have a pantry, you can FINALLY buy 12-packs of paper towels, meaning you won't have to buy paper towels again for a whole week? Maybe even two!

. . . Thinking about how you miss hockey but then realizing football is just around the corner? FOOTBALL!

. . . Listening to your kid have a one-sided conversation using her Little Mermaid phone, realizing that she's "talking" to Daddy, and that she keeps repeating herself over and over, just like you do when you know he's not really listening?

. . . Finding a pair of jeans you haven't worn forever, trying them on, and realizing that they are too big?

. . . Stepping outside early in the morning and watching as your kid pauses, looks around, and says, "It's really froggy out today?"

. . . Looking in your kitchen cabinet and deciding that you don't really need those sippy cups anymore? "Real" cups RULE!

As Alexis would say, "I don't fink so." That's about as good as it gets.

It Just Won't GO AWAY

I would have burned it, if it hadn't been so rancid that it refused to fuel a flame. The dress. The dress she wore all. freakin. summer. I was SO glad to see that sucker retire when the first fluffy white flakes fell to the ground last year.

She asked for it when gentler weather returned. "Where's my pink polka dot dress, momma?" she said in a sugary sweet voice.

"You're too big for it," I replied. I didn't actually know that for a fact. It didn't matter if she could still squeeze into it because I had banished it from her closet. BANISHED FOREVER.

Some time passed. In fact, a lot of time passed. The pink polka-dotted dress came to be filed under Things We Had Forgotten About.

Until we went to the Gap Outlet earlier tonight.

GAHFREAKINAIPPLEFLUOK

There it was. The used-to-be-OK-but-now-is-fug-cause-I've-seen-it-too-much dress hung on a rack near the back of the store. It was surrounded by dozens and dozens of matching atrocities. Undoubtedly it was available in every. single. size.

I tried to steer Alexis back out of the store. "I wanna see if they have a dress I like," she said as she barreled past me.

It was like time stood still between the moment when Alexis first caught site of the dress and the moment her mouth let out an excited squeal. "LOOK, MOMMA!" she blasted.

"I saw it," I replied. "We can't buy anything today, my dear," I told her. Cause, you know, a 3-year old is quick to buy that excuse.

"I love this dress, Momma," she gushed. "It's booty-full."

"I'm sorry, but we aren't buying it, Alexis," I said while quickly placing my arms over my face. I wanted to protect my eyes in case she started throwing things at me.

"Can we buy it later?" she asked. "Please?"

"Yeah, later. We can do later," I told her.

I'm going to have to find a new place to shop for kid clothes. Gap Outlet and I have to break up until that dress is gone.

Oye.