Fun: Telling your daughter the hilarious fact that someone who ruins things - like the play-party she's pretending to put on right at that moment - is called a, "party pooper."
Not Fun: Trying to put your child in time out five hours later whilst they yell angrily, "No!! I WON'T!! YOU ARE A PARTY POOPER! YOU ARE THE PARTY POOPER!!!!"
I've noticed a physical thing with regards a child's development that I'm sure is common to those who study this sort of thing. I call it, "Mustache finger." And yes, that is how Americans insist upon spelling the hairy man-lip. I have a whole bunch of twisty stick-things that you'd describe as a pipe cleaner. I'm sure they're not actually pipe cleaners, but you know what I mean. For a period of time yesterday my daughter pretended to be me by holding a blue pipe cleaner between her nose and top lip in the same way you'd hold a pencil there (whatever - it's just a fetish - let's move on). Apparently that was Captain Cheesestick's special disguise so that he could evade detection and blend into the general population unsuspected by other superheroes and master-criminals.
Anyhoo - this morning it was missing so I tried to spark up the game again by just pretending my index finger was a mustache. My son - not yet two - tried to replicate this by hiding his eyes. My daughter - four years old (and, I remind you, someone who demanded/threatened, "Daddy - we have to make a cornucopia or Mommy will never come home....") tried to replicate it by curling her finger over the top of her nose. No matter how many times I asked her to do it again - whilst explaining where the finger should go - she kept doing it that way. Apparently that's how her brain processes it. Bizarre.
For much of this morning my daughter has been playing The Trampolining Window Washer. She used to take a small yellow squirty-bottle and a rag and clean stuff all the time. Mostly it was windows. She hasn't done that in a very long time. But yesterday it was found under the sink and she's been running around all morning cleaning windows. Unlike when she used to do it we now own a trampoline. And she has decided that the best way to clean up high is to bounce on the trampoline and squirt randomly into the air. And then - because no activity is a one-man-show - get me to wipe up everything she got wet. Then as quick as a flash she gave up cleaning and started covering everything in blankets so that she could, "jump off it without it knowing." Like this -:
Right - I'm going to try and convince my daughter that yelling, "don't be a stick in the mud" at her brother every twenty seconds isn't big or clever.