The monkey ate the orange.

There are some really comical things about motherhood. This is one of them... So, Christmas Eve I had the great fortune of having some time to (wait for it) BLOW DRY MY HAIR!!! So I took the opportunity and ran with it. Of course, I didn't close the door to the bathroom while doing it because closing the bathroom door and motherhood are completely incongruous.

I wanted to be at dinner at my mom and dad's soon because little one #2 has set a firm 7pm curfew for us. So I had my husband give little one #1 a shower with him in our other bathroom. He was going to bathe her, get her dressed, and be ready when I was done.


As I'm blow drying my hair, my little naked toddler comes in and asks, "Mommy... you drying you hair?"

"Yes, mimi."

"Okay!" and runs off somewhere to do something other than get dressed, I suspect.

Five minutes later she comes in- still naked- eating a banana. Looks around, takes a glob of body lotion with her in the other hand and off she goes.

Five minutes later she runs across the bathroom doorway towards our closet- still naked- screaming something random like "The monkey ate the orange! The monkey ate the orange!"

On her way back from the closet she runs across again waving one of my bras around like a flag and yelling, "Whhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Five minutes later she comes into the bathroom- still naked- after having rummaged through my underwear drawer with a pile of my underwear in her arms. She looks up at me, smiles, and off she goes again.

Until finally, she comes in dressed and asks for lipstick by puffing out her lips as if asking for a kiss.

I'm done with my hair at this point, so I fulfilled her request. I put red on her adorable poufy lips and then she gives me a big smooch to thank me. And then I burst with gratitude for having children.