Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice...Not so Much.

 

What are little boys made of?

What are little boys made of?

Frogs and snails

And puppy-dogs' tails,

That's what little boys are made of.

What are little girls made of?

What are little girls made of?

Sugar and spice

And all that's nice,

That's what little girls are made of.

What an idiot. Did the author of this drivel ever have a little girl? I think not. Don't let this angelic picture of my daughter fool you. She'll cut you. Literally. She actually threw a pair of razor sharp scissors at her brother this afternoon. I kid you not. Luckily he was agile enough to get out of the way so Daddy didn't have to deal with a gaping chest wound to start the week. 

In addition to her penchant for cutlery she also screams...a lot...for no reason. Oh, and she lies.

A typical exchange in our house:

"Daddy, Joey hit me."

"Joey did you hit your sister?"

"No way Daddy. She's lying, I swear. She always lies."

Bingo J-Man. She always lies. Even when I catch her in the act of beating the dog or purposely smashing one of her brother's amazing Lego creations she denies it. And she's not even four yet. At least now I can pick her up and restrain her or take her blankie away when she does something egregious. What is her future husband going to do with her? I think he may spend a lot of time weeping softly to himself. All I have to say to the lucky man is...don't blame me. She was born this way - and  I swear her mother didn't drink or do drugs while she was pregnant. To quote the great philosopher B.A. Baracus: "I pity the fool."