In Which I Let You Know

Some time ago, loyal reader, I made the claim that Macey was the sweetest little thing, so affectionate, greatest baby ever, etc. I also promised that, should that ever change, I would let you know.

I'm officially letting you know.

Macey finds no greater pleasure in life than doing precisely the opposite of what she thinks you want. Her happy little personality remains consistent; the change has come in the content of what it is that informs her happiness.

An example: A couple of days ago I was cleaning the kitchen while Macey ate dinner at her high chair. She finished before I did, and wanted to be released to go wreak havoc on the utensils in the dishwasher. I, being of the persuasion that she shouldn't play with knives, let her wait while I finished the dishes.

So she poked herself in the eye. I saw her do it and shrieked, "Macey! Don't touch your eyes!" She grinned her wicked little grin and and opened her eyes as wide as possible, jamming each finger with great precision into them as long as she could stand it without blinking.

Every time I saw her do it, I shrieked and told her to stop. She laughed big belly laughs and just tried harder to stare me down past the fingers in her eyes. Fortunately, I'm still smarter - at least for now. I told her to keep her fingers out of her mouth instead, so she started chewing on them while I feigned dismay.

I'm going to go ahead and make the prediction now that she's going to make me wear out the phrase, "I told you this is what would happen."