Da-da-da-Davy

I have heard it said before and it rings so true at this present moment; Laptops are poorly named apparatuses or should I say apparati? anywho.Apparently your lap is not an ideal place for them.

My legs are on fire.

Possibly with third degree burns.

Davy has been on a rolllll lately with hilarium and unfortunately I have a hard time remembering the funny things she says. But today I made a few mental notes and am here to report.

This evening, I was making a little foccacia bread that was hoping to become a thick crust pizza when it grew up. And as I was stirring in the flour and salt and yeast, I heard a little voice and saw the big brown eyes that do me in.

"Mommy, can I help you make the bwead?"

I juuuust wanted to get it mostly stirred to prevent flour from launching wall to wall in my kitchen by the cute three year old helper.

But. I am a klutz and as I stirred, I spilled. Just a little. And the three year old inquired sweetly,

"Did you learn how to spill from me mommy?"

Quite the opposite babe. Sadly, I think my messiness rubbed off on your little self.

After I realized what a jerk-klutz I was for not just letting her go to town, I handed over the bowl and spoon and turned around to placate Gianna's howls from her high throne. As usual she was screeching for something edible...

And then I heard some spitting. From the floor. And then I saw the spit. In the bowl. "Davy. What. Are. You. Doing!" I gently screamed at her. She cried. And then I realized that I needed to chill and this was not that big of a deal and that I could easily remove the saliva from the dough and call it a day.

But I couldn't fix the alligator tears rolling down the beat down face of my sweetie pie. Davy....sweetie. Why did you spit in the dough? (She was hyperventilating. I think out of embarrassment.)

"The bwead doesn't taste like bwead."

And there you have it folks. A perfect lesson simple baking was learned by a toddler in my home today. And hopefully she will not spit in our food again.

But sometimes it takes her a while to really get it. She lost 3 Kroger balloons today. In like 10 minutes.

She goes into her first come and see day for preschool in 9 days though and I really just want to cry about it. mostly. sometimes I want her to go on a short vacay. Like this evening when she pinched Gianna so hard she drew blood. My poor sweet favorite Gianna bear.

My mom stopped by this evening though and saw her being a stinker and said that I was juuuuuust like her when I was little to my sisters.

It doesn't really surprise me. I'm sorry Katie and Liz for all the times I was a jerky big sister. what goes around comes around. karma. personal penance. However you see it, I'm pretty sure I'm getting what was coming to me after all those years.