You thought it would be a good idea to announce in Baby Gap, in your loudest voice, that your "ding dong was feeling all better today." You have been complaining that this part of your body was hurt a few times the last couple of days. When your concerned Mom and Dad tried to figure out what was wrong you told us with all sincerity that "a tractor bit your ding dong and hurt it really bad."
You told me while watching a movie that you want to be in a movie one day...your character of choice...a princess. Your Daddy loved this idea.
You lined up your greasy french fries on your window in the car so "they could see outside."
But what really took the cake...and gave your Mama heart failure:
After returning from Raleigh, I began straightening up after you and your brother. You both made an enormous mess as I was trying to get out the door to run errands. So two hours later we were back home, and I discovered what you had done. Your little chair had been pulled up to the kitchen sink. Sitting on the counter...an opened, nearly empty bottle of children's Motrin. I went straight to the den with that bottle and asked you if you had messed with this medicine. "Yes, Mommy. I was sick. But I feel better now." I asked how you got the lid off and took the medicine. You proceeded to show me how you turned the bottle up, getting a belly full of the grape liquid. Panic. I scolded you and rushed to call the pediatrician whose nurse politely told me to call poison control. The kind lady had me measure out the small amount of medicine that was left in this brand new bottle. Her calculations revealed you had 17 doses of Motrin. 17. Luckily, your size and the fact you had eaten lunch kept you from being harmed.
You were acting pretty normal. If I hadn't found the evidence I wouldn't have known anything was wrong. For a while that is. Soon you became wired. Wired is actually an understatement. You were running through the house at full speed, making funny faces and noises, banging into furniture, jumping up on the very hard ceramic tile floor and landing on you knees and talking constantly. You hemmed Cade and Cannon up between the door and the refrigerator for 30 minutes. You were pretending to be a really big, scary bear and growled at them when they tried to escape (luckily, they found this hilarious). We went outside and you ran straight to get your bike. You pedaled as hard as you could down the path straight into the gate at the cow pasture, hollering the whole way that you needed to "check your cows." The best way to describe what you looked like...remember the wicked witch in The Wizard of Oz riding her bike like a mad woman...got a visual? We went to Ally's for a clothing party and you, my normally shy, reserved child ran through the house with a knight's helmet on (that was entirely too small and you could barely see out of) and a gun, shooting all the guests. You boxed with Mrs. Dae, who you didn't know, growled at Ava, and threw toys over the banister barely missing the innocent bystanders below. You were unbelievable. You went non stop until you finally crashed in my arms at 8:30. I am very grateful you are okay. I learned an important lesson about hiding all meds and the negative effects of 17 doses of Motrin. Thank you, my sweet child, for keeping me on my toes.
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