Daddy made supper tonight. A very ordinary supper. Healthy, balanced, and just carelessly slopped onto plates before serving. When I tell Dixie that it is time to eat she tells me, 'but we have to take a picture of it first.'
I was just reminded of another Dixie story, one from a few months back.
Dixie is trouble in a bathroom. All those tubes and bottles of things, the thrill of privacy, the allure of the toilet and sink--you can't let her alone for a minute. She used to love to suck on tubes of toothpaste until the day I quietly replaced the toothpaste tube with a tube of diaper rash ointment and she was suddenly more careful about what she put in her mouth. For a girl who can whine for 4 hours about picking up 10 dollies and putting them in a box, she seems to have no problem with washing the lid of the toilet and the countertop with hand soap. Maybe her need for experiencing texture isn't being met?
So one day I realize that she has been in the bathroom without making any bathroom-related sounds for more than her allowed 45 seconds. I call to her, "Dixie, what are you doing in there?"
"Oh, mom," she comes out and tells me. "I was just looking at my gorgeous face in the mirror."