she'd be laughing her ASS OFF. Yes, my mom is still alive but doesn't live in the same house as me so if she could have seen the exchange my daughter and I had tonight she'd be laughing so hard she'd probably pee in her pants. Why? Let me tell you.
My daughter is an interesting person. When she's asleep I can't see any hint of the baby she started off as. If I showed you a picture of my daughter now compared to when she was a baby you would probably say they weren't the same person. Many people say she's a mini-me of me. She has dark hair like mine, her eye shape is like mine, and her smile is like mine. But she is also a really nice mixture of my family. She runs (according to my dad) just like my mom did when she was little. She's smart and sassy, LOVES pink, plays with dolls, is a tomboy though just like my sisters and I. She's really quick witted like my older sister. Girly with a KILLER fashion sense like my younger sister. With just a hint of tomboy like me. She can pour tea from her Cinderella tea pot for her dad one minute, and use it to shoot her brother as he streaks by the next. With that said, she's just like me in another sense...her concept of clean.
She's very different from me (I think) in that she will leave a trail of destruction wherever she goes. She loves to color and will spread out in a room to do that. But then something will catch her eye or she'll go play with her brother and leave the colors on the floor. Her room is a Category 5 disaster area. I have helped her, countless times, clean it up. So tonight when Jason opened up her door and saw her room, he was aghast. She couldn't do anything, and I mean anything, until it was cleaned up. She cried and complained the whole time, but then came out and announced that it was clean. I went in to inspect and found that indeed it was not clean. There were coloring books, crayons, and markers on the bed. Marbles on the floor (spread out of course), and tons of stuffed animals, dolls, and other toys stuffed under her bed. She had Pokemon cards and her tea set strewn across her desk, and her coloring items were sitting in front of her closet. When I told her this was not clean, she argued that it was. After all, she stated, the floor is clear. "Yes," was my response. "But it is not where it goes."
WHOA! FLASHBACK! For a moment I imagined that she was me and I was my mom. Except, she hasn't come back with that quick witted statement I did when I heard, "The floor better be picked up!" Under my breath I'd say, "Well that's impossible to pick the floor up," as I went about trying to put things back. Let's just say I knew where everything was. My mom was afraid to step in my room because of all the stuff on the floor. However, I knew where everything was so I wouldn't trip as I walked to the bathroom in the dark.
So, with Caroline I stood in the doorway and started to tick off the list of where things went. She had to clear out the stuff from underneath her bed and put things away as I told her where they went. But the whole time I'm thinking, "If only my mom could see me now."
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