Bad Karma and Why I Need to Put a Lock on the Fridge.

I can sadly say that all that bad karma I built up as an evil teenage girl has finally come around and kicked me in the butt.
I once believed that my punishment was when I was blessed with a son. Sons test your nerves with every jump off a play structure, bring tears to your eyes with every bandaid. They make you jealous of the sheer volume of energy they possess. However, over the last couple of years, it has become quite apparent that my son is the least of my worries.

Many of you have probably read the countless stories my daughter has provided to me… See For Our Entertainment for a teaser… but the events over the past week have severely topped the list.

It started with oranges.

One if the things I always make sure to have plenty of in our home is fruit. Due to the fact that I have always refused to allow my kids to drink juice (with the exception of special events or when a grandparent offers it), we have always had a “help yourself” policy in our house when it comes to fruit. I always keep a fully stocked fruit bowl on the kitchen table and the kids are welcome to grab something if they are hungry.  Our son took to this quite well from an early age with an understanding that we sit at the table to eat our fruit and if we have recently had a snack, we ask a parent before having another (to avoid eating too much before dinner). When it came time to include our daughter in this practice (around her 3rd birthday), we fully expected it to go about the same as with her brother. I should have known better.

The day I found an orange peel in the bathroom.

My initial thought was that my daughter had to pee and left the table with the orange when she had to go. As we know with little ones, when they have to go, they have to go NOW. I didn’t think much of it until the next day when, yet again, I found an orange peel in an odd location. I asked her about it and simply received a shrug and an innocent looking “I don’t know”. Again, I gave her the benefit of the doubt, figuring she dropped a piece on the ground and the dog got ahold of it.  Why didn’t I know better? 

Over the next few days, I not only found orange peels in odd places, I found actual oranges hidden all over our house.  She had hidden them in the couch cushions, behind furniture, in her dresser drawers.  My daughter was stashing food and sneaking it whenever she was told she was not allowed another snack!

We decided at that point, we should probably put the fruit bowl up on the kitchen island from now on so she cannot get ahold of them.  This simply resulted in me catching her dragging the bathroom stool into the kitchen so she could reach the bowl. 

Then yesterday, the mother of all events occured.  Sophie has gone down for a nap so I am in the basement working. Every so often I head upstairs to check on her.  About an hour in (and me thinking by this point she is passed out asleep), I hear noises on our main floor. So I head upstairs and immediately, I spot the most shocking scene of my life as a mother.  Sophie is sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor attempting to break open the gingerbread house box I had purchased earlier that day for her brother to decorate when he got home.  Next to her was empty carton of 1 week old expired egg nog (which she had drank – I estimate it was about 1/3 full) and the entire plate of ginger bread cookies we had decorated earlier that morning (which she had licked all the icing off of).

My jaw dropped. 

Again she looked at me with that innocent look on her face that makes it pretty much impossible to get mad. 

As I get her cleaned up, she announces that she has to pee really bad.  That’s probably what woke her in the first place but apparently she never actually went to the bathroom.  So I scoop her up and head towards the bathroom… needless to say, we didn’t make it on time and I found myself covered in pee. 

When my husband got home, I told him the story of our day.  Five minutes later, he presented me with a very stiff drink.


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