Hi! Noah Here.


So something really great has happened since I last wrote to you.

And I mean run-through-a-sprinkler-naked-on-a-hot-day good. You know that feeling.

The Servant Who Calls Herself Mommy has started allowing me to go upstairs and play with The Sister Who Calls Herself Ali.



With the freedom to come and go on the stairs as I like.


Because I’m big like that. And I mean not-pooping-in-the-bath-anymore big. You know that feeling, too.


This is such a fantastic turn of events because The Sister is my new favorite person. She is the food floaties to my sippy cup. The snot trail to my cheek. The dirt-dipped chocolate to my mouth. She completes me.


I see her coming and start singing to myself, “Girl you’re my Angel, you’re my Darlin, Baby…Closer than my stale-Easter-peeps you are to meeee…..”



So naturally, I want to do everything she wants to do. And I have no qualms about the inclusion of glitz and glam in that definition.

Ruby Red Slippers

What?? It’s worth it.


So anyway.

We’ve been playing dolls and dress-up and chemistry in the bathroom and scores of other secret things that I can’t write here for fear that The Servant will see it and forbid me from playing alone with her anymore…


And then one special, special day The Sister showed me her fabulous face-decoration skills.


I watched closely as she stared into her mirror, making perfect and beautiful circles upon each of her ivory cheeks.


She looked like a delicate China Doll…


And I was smitten more than ever.


But right as she was finishing up her cheek decor, The Servant came up to snatch us from all fun. And confiscated the markers!!


Before I had my chance.

It grieved my heart to not be allowed to copy my Idol in such a momentous step of tattooery.


So the next morning I escaped for a few minutes and found two pens.


As quickly as I could, I went on a Cheek Rampage to add the very same perfect circles to my cheeks.

Except that I didn’t have time to find a mirror.

And mine didn’t come out nearly as classy.


I looked more like Scarface.


And I was mortified.


All I wanted to be was a China Doll, not a Mafia Hit Man.


And now I’m grounded off of writing implements for life. And for what?


Creativity around here. It’s totally smothered.

12 thoughts on “On Heroes and Makeup.

  1. I love the Noah posts….little boys are on an adventure! Noah and Ali are wonderful children. GODD JOB!

  2. Oh my word. You’re killing me, smalls.
    Noah, you poor kid. Yes, your creativity IS being smothered. But you know what? Let me tell you a secret. Your mommy will give you a marker again. You just practice being patient and obeying your mama, and she will give you a marker again, I promise.
    And if not, then come to my house. I’ve got lots of markers!

  3. Haha, that is so cute that they’re really starting to play together. It’s SO nice when they get to that age where they can entertain themselves for 5 minutes without total supervision….with only minor incidences like this. :)

  4. HA! Scarface is much more masculine than a China doll, though, right? ;)

    This reminds me of Honest Toddler…both very funny!

    Also, inspired by The Servant Who Calls Herself Mommy, I’ve been occasionally referring to myself as The Waitress Who Calls Herself Mommy. If only I got tips!

    1. Noah is flattered by the compliment of a comparison to Honest Toddler! But he also told me to tell you that he’s been blogging longer than that newbie. ;-)

      And I, for one, should definitely start touting my waitress benefits!!

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