I Spork You

When she's being all cute in the swing (see right), she doesn't look violent. But don't let the smile and lil scrunched up nose fool you - she is more dangerous than she looks.

This morning, she woke up at 5 am. That in itself is painful enough, but she had more in store for me. As I got her to cuddle on me while laying on the couch, she was 'telling me a story'. It went something like this: Ahhh-baaaa-geeeen, Baaaaa-geeen-ooooh, Daaaaaa-baaaaaa-geeeen-ooooh and so on. I'm sure she was telling me about her dreams or of her plans for the day rather than casting a spell on me which is what it sounded like (think chanting). Every so often, she liked to make sure that I was still paying attention (I was awake, honest!) as she would pinch my chest. Owwww! Apparently I need to trim those finger nails again!

Then came the sporking incident. That sounds fairly dirty now that I see it in print. Really, it's not. A spork is her 'baby fork'. It's deep like a spoon, but has the tongs like a fork. Viola! I present the spork.

Anyhow, Emmy found a spork on the floor. After the pinching incident, I decided to put her on the floor so I could nap while she played. She found the spork, and decided to comb my hair with it as I laid on the couch. Awww, how sweet I thought until...

KNOT - Ouch Emmy!

That's my eye socket, not my hair, Emmy.

Please don't hit Mommy over the head with the Spork, Emmy.

Please don't hit Mommy in the face with the Spork, Emmy.

Please don't hit Mommy in the (insert body part here) with the Spork, Emmy.

Daddy, would you please take the Spork away from her? (I can't be the bad guy all the time lol)

I guess if I was up on my cleaning, there wouldn't have been a spork on the floor in the first place. But then I would have missed out on a powerful bonding experience with my daughter. At least, that's what I told Keith when he mentioned that fact.

So, that's my 14 month old love-of-my-life daughter who gets a bit violent with Mommy.