This week Juliette did not decide to expand her artistic repertoire to include such mediums as our beige ottomans. And espying our beige furniture "decorated" with dark ball-point pen, I did not throw a fit that would make any two-year-old jealous. I did not act like they were expensive, irreplaceable items that had been in the family for centuries instead of cheap, poorly made footrests that were already championing some stains from Seth's late night snacking. Nope, not me!
At Juliette's preschool's open house, she did not try to eat the plastic cheese. I did not try to discreetly smuggle the pretend food away from her and into the back where I rinsed it off either. Not me!
I did not let Juliette "help" can peaches by merely giving her a bowl full of pits and peels. She did not then proceed to eat the peels and suck on the pits. That's just cruel.
Later I did not find that she had managed to get her hands on a "real" peach, only to apparently find it rather boring. Certainly not.
Juliette is not obsessed with rocks. I do not find them littered about my house, nor do we have to stop every fifteen feet whenever we are outside in order to let her pick up and closely inspect a "better" rock. They are not stacked up on our porch, nor did I actually find one this week, the size of a orange, rolled up in her sheets. I did not add "check bed for rocks" to my mental list for her bedtime routine. Nope not me!
Parenting is most definitely not full of adventures!
Ha ha, I remember doing a similar thing with my brother-in-law when he was about 4. He wanted to "help" me cut out Campbell soup labels. I gave him the pile of scraps that I had already cut up, and he went to town cutting them into even scrappier pieces. We were both happy, it worked.
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