The other day I was in the kitchen cooking and the kid was in the living room playing, and I looked out to check on her and found her dumping a sippy cup full of milk onto the arm of the armchair.
I walked into the room quickly, asking her to stop, asking her why she would do that.
And then I stopped myself.
Because it dawned on me that when I was a kid I would have done exactly the same thing.
I wrote in books, I drew on my Cabbage Patch Kids with permanent marker, I took things apart to see how they worked and then couldn’t figure out how to put them back together. I took my Glitter and Gold Jem doll into the bath with me and her sparkly battery operated earrings never worked again.
I have scars on my knees from the scrapes. I am amazed that I have never broken any bones (only a small fracture of my little figure that still occasionally hurts).
And I think I can expect just about the same from my kid – always adventurous, always waiting to see what happens next.
But you know what? When I think back to my childhood, I thing of happy things. I think it was fun and a lot of it is funny.
So now she knows what happens when you turn your sippy cup upside down.