my so-clichéd life

before having kids, i remember reading "funny" stories about little nippers and their shenanigans and thinking, "ha ha. sounds completely made up for a laugh, but ha ha anyway."

but as in so much with parenthood, the joke is real, and it's on me.

the set-up:

today, thing one and i had a "big girl" date. we shopped. we lunched. she got to pick out coloring books, paints, crayons and a stuffed kitty for her birthday. we bought a game for her friend's upcoming birthday, and – what the hell – one for ourselves, too. i picked up some holiday books for my little cherubs. when we got home, we played bingo, painted, ate halloween candy. i was the über-mommy; she was delightful. the teller at the bank, who gave thing one a sucker, said, "i've never seen such a cute, well-behaved child!"

the punch line:

late afternoon, i finally began tending to household stuff while thing one settled in to the sound of music. or so i thought. instead, i later discovered, she had taken markers and crayons to the playroom walls (raw, porous, unfinished, VERY absorbent wood), fireplace (porous brick), and floor. her defense? the rationale for these crimes against building materials? "i dunno."

ha ha.