MY DAUGHTER IS OUT TO KILL ME.
Not the easy way, like, say, giving me poison-laced dark chocolate. I’d eat that.
The persona of Ali: House Destroyer.
Mission One: Shock and Awe.
Well that one’s obvious. It was the mission on which she earned her wings – the destruction of her bathroom, my kitchen, and her bedroom floor. I might have already blogged about that once. Or twice. Or thrice. Or frice. So I won’t blog it again.
(Except to say that yes, the recovery process is 148 days in and still unfinished.)
Mission Two: Glass Was Made to be Broken.
I heard a loud crash, then an “UH OH!!! MOMMMMMY!!!!”
I went in to find the above light fixture and it’s former self below on her brother’s city mat (where he thankfully was not playing,) laced with balloon fragments.
“You broke a light fixture with…a balloon??”
“Yes – I threw it up there, and it just broke!!”
Upon further investigation, I theorized that the balloon had hit the fan pulls with such force that they bounced up and hit the light, thereby destroying it.
Those are superhero powers right there.
Mission Three: Flood by a Thousand Drips.
When the time came to start the fifth bath in her brand new bathroom, I discovered a dripping wet towel in her bathroom floor.
“Why is this towel wet?”
“My floor looked dirty. So I was cleaning it.”
“Exactly HOW were you cleaning it? Did you wet the towel and then wipe it? Or pour water on the floor and then wipe it?”
“Well….um…well…um…I poured little cups of water on the floor, then wiped it up.”
“Water on your floor is what caused us to have to rebuild your entire bathroom. Don’t ever ever EVER pour water on your floor.”
“No, that wasn’t what caused us to have to redo my bathroom! It was the toilet overflowing!”
<double deep breathing>
(But as an aside, I must admit. I used her bathroom quite innocently the other day and stopped up the toilet. So perhaps not everything is her fault.)
(And we totally should have replaced that Porcelain Devil’s Workshop when we remodeled the bathroom.)
Mission Four: Paint the Room Red.
Upon the start of her seventh bath in her new tub, I discovered FINGERNAIL POLISH. On her brand new bathroom tiles.
There is nothing more to say.
Mission Five: Kindergarten Meth Mouth.
I set out to put a few things under Ali’s normally fairly empty bathroom sink.
What I was not expecting to find was her Secret Chemistry Lab.
She had apparently been experimenting with combinations of shampoo, conditioner, soap, bath fragrances, body sprays, bubble bath, toothpaste, possibly medication, and who-tha-heck knows what else to make tantalizing creations such as this,
This (which as an aside is housed in the toilet bowl scrubber base,)
And this formerly bubbling brew.
Each concoction had it’s own color and texture, so she definitely earned points for creativity.
I found amongst these creations her lab assistant: black magic, no doubt.
And behind that, I discovered the most fearsome of them all. The crust achieved reminded me of some condescending cheeses I once tasted.
And, as with all parenting firsts, my lab bust created a new topic for parental debate.
And he still hasn’t concluded.
But considering the fact that HIS DAUGHTER IS TRYING TO KILL ME, he best be sidin’ with me.