I tried to set up a meeting on Maury Povich, so we could clear up this paternity business. There is this vicious rumor going around that, indeed, the big, red D himself, is the father of my youngest.
We were in the store, just Middle, Baloney and I. I handed her a box of fruit snacks that we were buying, thinking she would talk to Nemo and stroke the box, and amuse herself. Instead she tries to rip it open. I tell her no, we have to buy it, blah blah, and guess what, she still tries to rip it open. I tear it from her little dimpled fingers and chuck it into the cart. She immediately responds with a howl, after all I have just ruined her day. She frantically starts climbing out of her seat, even though she is strapped in, and tries climbing over the back. After several rounds of pulling her down, trying to cram her legs (that she has locked in the "straight" position) into the seat, I have won. Or at least I thought. I am now a hot sweaty mess, she is yelling "heyyyyyyyyyyy" and "sit down!" at the top of her lungs, and I still have things to get. I am looking at lotion, when I notice a book of stamps flutters to the ground. Then my bank card, and a tampon. The contents of my purse are being flung around, and as I snatch them up, the gremlin in the cart is cackling at the chaos she has created. Yes, I said cackling. I take everything away, assist her in sitting down, again.
I called my husband, after all, the moments in life such as these should be shared, and I am all about sharing. We talk for a minute, and I calmly tell him that he is more than likely NOT Baloney's father. I then whisper, as to let no one overhear, that, the Devil himself, is my baby's daddy. I told him if he doesn't believe me, Maury Povich would love the ratings this would bring.
Somewhere, somehow, my little girl has morphed into this portrait of naughtiness,and I'm not feeling it.
As the conversation progresses into enchanted things such as what's for dinner, etc, Middle whimpers and then yelps. I look over, and I see Middle crouched down and Baloney has a fistful of hair, yanking it and you guessed it, laughing. I help Middle escape from the clutches of Attila the Hun, and we leave, kicking and screaming toddler in tow.
The pigtails on her head resemble little horns... I know longer think that is a coincidence.