Two weeks ago and everyday since,
Phoebe has told me what a good girl she is.
It goes kind of like this. .
Phoebe (4): Mommy. MOMMY!
Phoebe: I don’t know why, but I’m always good. Like I’m never bad. Never.
Me: Yes. You are always good. You’re a sweet, sweet, girl.
Phoebe: I’m like the best one, right? Out of me, Shelbi, Bella, and Soledad. I’m the best one, right? They are always bad. And I’m never bad. I think I’m the best.
Me: Well. . .You are pretty wonderful.
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I should have known! I should have known!
Something must have been up in that cute little hair brained noodle of hers!
She went from doing nothing wrong to being A Tsunami in a Dress.
Yesterday, she destroyed her room.
She smashed my blush to smither-eeeennnnssss. On purpose. And acted like she had no idea who did it.
And then she did one more thing, but I can’t remember because that hot mess! of a child is so cute that she totally has me under her spell.
Oh boy. I’m in a world of trouble.
I’m in a world of trouble.
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Poor Feebs. Who can blame her?
She’s the fourth of 4 children and she’s got to get in where she fits in.
Anyway, she gets a lot of hand me downs, but I usually will toss it, if I can’t fix it up to look like new.
This is a toy box that I purchased at the thrift for $12.00.
I cleaned it up.
Washed it out.
And then purchased Contact Paper (@ The Dollar Store) and covered it.
She loves it.
And so do I.
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