[Mis]Adventures with My Little Blonde Girl

*sigh* (instant heartmelt)

    So…my little blonde girl. Her name is Abella though everyone just calls her Bella. She has beautiful blonde hair that always seems to 'go rouge' even under the most deterring restraints. She is the cutest chick that I have ever seen….aaaaand she is two-years-old (she's my little sister). Anyway, I will randomly record thoughts and reflections, as well as funny moments inspired by our actual misadventures. Here we go:


This morning, from the general direction of our sporadic dining table, I heard a cry of disturbance. Abandoning my coffee and rushing to the source of the scream, I deduced that it was my little sister Bella, who was pointing distantly at a spot on the floor. Following her laser-accurate-finger, I realized, to my relief, that nothing extremely terrible, certainly, at least, nothing worth the scream, had taken place. Instead, I discovered, after a minute of keen visualizational effort, that there was a small ant underneath the table, lying motionless; apparently dead. Immediately, I was amazed at her keen eyesight as this ant was merely a rather small discoloration in our dark-grouted-tile-floor. In addition, the hapless ant had ventured onto our busy kitchen floor, the result in evidence as it had been skooshed; his well-earned doom.
My little Bella is emotionally intolerant of bugs or any type of creepy crawly being in general; I'm pretty sure Chewbacca would have similar affects on her :P

Peanut Gallery Detour: Emotionally Intolerant is my way of saying scared, or afraid of. When I say, "emotionally intolerant," I am basically using unnecessarily-large words to create a euphemism, which is to say that I am feeling rather special at the moment (my favorite word is 'sesquipedalianistic,' whose dictionary definition is a word containing liberal amounts of syllables, or, aka…a big word).

Putting my previous fears on hold, I began to console my little sister, as she was losing her sanity. "Ah, I see. It's okay darling," I said in my most soothing voice, "its…not a bug."

Yes, I was lying to her, but I realized that my actions over the course of the next five minutes, if chosen strategically, could restore sanity to the kitchen, and thus me. If chosen haphazardly, the situation's dire features would simply amplify, which was a route I wanted to avoid since I was running late. Her facial features instantly morphed into one of indignant disbelief, and she placed her hands on her hips and glared at me. "It's a bug," she retaliated.

*gulp*

She wasn't buying it. Sensing my plan was in danger of epic failure, I cast a pleading look to my other blonde sister (Kate), who had been watching the developments; simply amused. She responded immediately, crouching down underneath the table, as she was soothingly talking to Bella—"it's alright Bell, it's just a—" at this point my sister had prodded the dead ant with her finger and instantly recoiled. "Eeeew, it is a bug" she concluded helpfully. I cast her a dark-glare and found, upon returning my attention to her, that Bella trusted Kate over me. "Now, now Bella," I began, "it may be a bug, but its dead now. It can't hurt you." Having none of it, she insisted, "Take it away outside please."

Her proposal spelled one word for me:

inconvenience. "Dear [Bella], Adam will sweep it up later, okay?" I pleaded.

"No, uh, right now take it outsiiiide," she spelled out with her lips.

*facepalm* "Look Bella," I said attempting to kick it away with my foot, "Sit down and eat your—" She gasped as soon as my foot began scooting it across the floor. Kate, trying to redeem herself, flicked the ant out of the doorway, eliminating our problem…at least for the moment. Bella, uneasy about our "solution," grudgingly sat back down in her chair to resume eating.

I left, but was summoned again a few minutes later as my little sister had located the ant's mangled corpse once again.

*sigh*

"Alright Bella, stop that. That's quite enough," I said permanently eliminating the problem with my foot, "It's gone for good now." I looked at her, and in turn, she looked down at the spot with her hands again in a position of scrutiny on her hips. Not able to locate the 'beast,' she held her hands up in an inquirative shrug, asking, "Where did it go to?" Picking her up (buying time), I blurted, "Ca…CandyLand." I closed my eyes. Why did I say that? Opening my eyes, I saw that my little benevolent had digested this answer quite well, and that her little heart was at last at ease. I quickly decided I would stick with my answer, as I cuddled her in my arms. "Let's go find some candy," I said, thrilled as her eyes lit up with joy. "Okay," she said, smiling...