I am not afraid of engaging in child slave labor though. When it pleases me. And if she deems it to be fun. I figure I got her for another year or two until she realized that cleaning the toilet in a house full of boys is G.R.O.S.S.
A rare moment that the stick in her hand wasn't being wielded against the dog, the walls or the railings in the banister. It's like magic how after a time or two of getting whacked, those sticks would slowly just.....disappear. And what is on her feet?
It's the cleaning gloves of course! BEFORE she ever used them in the bathroom.
She has this funny game of putting everything on her feet now.
Here we have two pairs of socks, a pair of slippers and some church shoes (on the wrong feet). But she feels so clever and proud of herself, that I like to just let her be!
And this is basically how the weekend went - on the run - chasing the storm - cleaning up the aftermath.
I wouldn't have it any other way!