Mo's hitting it hard, too, though.
I met my Dad with the girls at KFC/Taco Hell for dinner. He picks them up Thursday afternoons for a trip to the malt shop and the library. Mo absolutely adores what she asks for as 'chicken from Taco Bell.' And after eating as much as a small country, she was hugging my Dad's arm and saying, 'Happy!'
Then we hit Stuff-Mart for a couple of necessaries. And I had in mind to get some crayons while we were there, despite my certainty that I'd have to take them away when I catch Mo eating them or stuffing them into various oubliettes around the house. I'll bet you there are 300-500 crayons in the space between my living room floor and den ceiling, stuffed in a hole that was drilled for network cable a few years back.
Anyway, Mo grabbed a couple of rubber ducky bath toys on one aisle and when I said no, put them back, she started to cry and whine.
She continued to cry and whine past the crayons, pausing to ask for Silly Putty. She has a bad track record of eating Silly Putty, and in any case I didn't want to feed the bears, and she had been whining quite a bit. So I said no and she whined some more.
Passing kid's socks and underwear she tried to grab a pack of tights. What the hell? Tights? She doesn't even wear socks all summer, just steps into her fake Crocs and goes. Even in the checkout line, through her tears, she periodically shouted, 'Tights!'
She also wanted rubber gloves when we passed those on the way to get dryer sheets.
I kept telling her if she didn't pull it together, there would be no crayons tonight.
She did not pull it together. She cried all the way to the car, and in the car all the way to the library where I ran in to grab a hold that had come in. She was crying when I got back in the car, though Em told me she quieted down while I was in the library, so I take it she fired up the tears again for my benefit alone.
So the crayons went straight to the lockup and Mo went more or less straight to the shower. She didn't want to, but I wanted to get her ready for bed so I could suffocate her with a pillow.
She was in a better mood after her shower. Not great, but better.
She spent the next hour and a half asking for crayons. And when I explained that her bad choices had taken them away, she cried some more. I won't say it was the most exhausting display I've ever seen, but it's in the top three, I'll bet.
And she did seem pitifully tired. And that makes sense. Last night, after I tucked her in, she came out a couple of times. When I went to grab pictures from my camera I realized it was missing and when I went into Mo's room, sure as shit she had the camera. Wide awake, an hour after I'd tucked her in.
She was bouncing off the walls a good half hour after I confiscated my camera. The pictures she took were pretty hilarious, as you can see. Hilarious until you factor in vitriol I've dealt with for the past three hours.
I sure hope she sleeps through the night.
Postscript
No, she didn't sleep through the night. Up at 3:30 for the day. In a much better mood, though.
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