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<blockquote data-quote="flutterbee" data-source="post: 38228"><p>I often reminisce back to when my kids were younger and the cute little antics they pulled. difficult child is often asking me to tell her these stories and I thought I'd share and ask others to share their own. </p><p></p><p>When easy child was 3 and I was pregnant with difficult child, I was washing dishes when I realized how quiet it was in the apartment. You know as well as I that quiet kids = trouble. So, I called out, "[easy child] what are you doing?" To which I hear, SLAM, "Nussinggg." I walk back in my bedroom and there is my little blond, blue-eyed, long-lashed boy sitting at my vanity with lovely black mascara drawings all over his face. The SLAM was the makeup drawer. :rofl: </p><p></p><p>When difficult child was about the same age, she came out of her bedroom one evening, shut the door, (I can still see her in her long, red flannel snowman nightgown with her toes just peeking out from underneath) and says to me, "It's ok, Mommy. You don't need to go in there." Of course, I have to at that point and find several bottles of glitter - gold, red, green, blue - had been dumped all over the floor. Her room was sooooo pretty!!! :rofl:</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="flutterbee, post: 38228"] I often reminisce back to when my kids were younger and the cute little antics they pulled. difficult child is often asking me to tell her these stories and I thought I'd share and ask others to share their own. When easy child was 3 and I was pregnant with difficult child, I was washing dishes when I realized how quiet it was in the apartment. You know as well as I that quiet kids = trouble. So, I called out, "[easy child] what are you doing?" To which I hear, SLAM, "Nussinggg." I walk back in my bedroom and there is my little blond, blue-eyed, long-lashed boy sitting at my vanity with lovely black mascara drawings all over his face. The SLAM was the makeup drawer. [img]:rofl:[/img] When difficult child was about the same age, she came out of her bedroom one evening, shut the door, (I can still see her in her long, red flannel snowman nightgown with her toes just peeking out from underneath) and says to me, "It's ok, Mommy. You don't need to go in there." Of course, I have to at that point and find several bottles of glitter - gold, red, green, blue - had been dumped all over the floor. Her room was sooooo pretty!!! [img]:rofl:[/img] [/QUOTE]
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