There are four words that can now send me sprinting to Meg, to matter where I am, or what I am doing. Those words? "I'm just doing something." They seem harmless enough, just an update on daily life, but coming from Meg's mouth they mean she is just doing something she shouldn't.
In the past two weeks "doing something" has meant emptying an entire bottle of shampoo into the (empty) tub, climbing up onto the table to reach the iPad, emptying my purse to find Tic Tacs, and munching on a half a stick of butter she found in the fridge.
Eating a handful of whipped cream is definitely "something."
Most of the time when Meg is caught she's very happy to stop what she was doing and avoid a confrontation. I guess she figures she got away with it long enough, and there's more fun to bed had later. Of course, once in a while she decides to push it a bit further. She doesn't scream or throw herself to the floor (at least not right away), instead she just puts on her sweetest face, flashes her dimples and says "just a little bit."
There are obvious times when I have to say no to the "little bit" plea, and brace for the potential tantrum: knife fights and poison drinking for example. Kidding. We all know those things will toughen her up...
Now, that time I was really kidding.
Obviously, if she is up on a table, or touching something dangerous, the answer is no. If it's just one more lick of butter, or the last squirt of shampoo into an already massive mess though, I usually give in. After all, I am learning very quickly that parenting means picking your battles. I figure if I battle every thing, I will never win anything.
Of course, I could be wrong. In that case I just hope I don't "doing something" doesn't end up being stealing cars...