the little mischief

Yesterday, DG and I had a good morning up until the point where it was time to go to school. I was putting my bag in the car and she followed me out to the garage. In the 10 seconds my back was turned, she got at the old toilet brush that is now used to scrub out the cat box. She has been told at least a dozen times not to touch that. This morning I lost my temper. I grabbed the brush out of her hand and said, in a rather pointed and angry voice, "No! You can't play with that! How many times do I have to tell you no! no! no! no! no!" Then I took the brush and moved it someplace a little harder to get to. When I turned back to her, she lifted her little face to look at me and said "unkay, mommy."

This morning we had a perfectly peaceful time in which we ate breakfast, fed the cats, took a bath, and got dressed for school. Then, right at the moment I go to load up the car she heads straight for the trash, digs out some old banana peels and starts hauling them around the house. Because a peaceful morning must end with a frustrated and frenzied mommy or it's just not fun.