I'm ready

It was one of those mornings.  It started out great.  And she was in a good mood.  So all structure went out the window.  Her choice -- not mine.

I made her breakfast and hopped in the shower.  I started getting dressed and she was in her bathroom.  Singing.  Nothing else.  I eventually went in and sat with her so that she would focus on brushing her teeth.  I begged, borrowed, and stole in order to put on lotion -- she hates putting it on but she itches.  I finished getting dressed and on the way downstairs told her I was going to make lunches and she needed to finish up.

I did the dishes I did not do last night.  I could hear her singing upstairs.  I made her snack.  I could still hear her singing upstairs.  I made her lunch.  Still singing -- starting to get worried.  I made my tea (I hate coffee).  Still singing -- wondering when she might come down.  Before I started making my lunch I walked to the stairs and yell up at her that I am almost done and she needs to hurry up.  She yells back that she is almost ready.  I am pleasanty surprised.

I am in the kitchen, making my lunch, when I hear her descend the stairs.  She walks in the kitchen and announces that she is ready to go.  I don't even turn around.  I just say,  "Good!  Pack you backpack please."  And then I turn around.  And she is standing completely naked in the middle of the kitchen.  She actually isn't joking.  She is serious. 

At least she has lotioned her entire body.

I send her back up to get dressed.  Some mornings are just going to be like that.

Mean Mama