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The Streaking Sasster....

oooooo y'all. ooo. Was today ever a day with HER.

After a day filled with finding her slathering aquafor (petrolium jelly) all over her feet (Because she had "boo-boos") and twice finding her sloshing a combo of lotion and hand sanitizer (How she found and got ahold of two different bottles of sanitizer is beyond me...all are kept out of sight out of reach) all over the table in her room, something happened that made my heart leap from my very body  and dangle by a string as I screamed like only a terrified mother can scream.

I was in the kitchen starting dinner. She was in her room playing. The moose was at my feet stuffing alphabet magnets in the pots and bowls in the cabinet.

And I felt it. A soft, unnatural, gentle breeze blowing through my house. And two thoughts occurred to me at the same time: 1.It had gotten awfully quiet in her room and 2. I had forgotten to lock the front door behind me when  I came in from getting the mail.

Sheer terror struck my body. And I just started running (with a sqwaking moose skooting behind me as fast as he could scoot). Running like Forrest. Running and screaming her name at the top of my lungs. As I crossed the threshold of the open front door, I glanced up and saw the favorite part to all of our days turning the corner on our street...

....and then I spotted her.

....at the end of the drive-way. My little Sassy Pants. Jumping up and down waving her arms at her daddy about to turn into our driveway. Sheer delight beaming from her face and her delightful squeals.

...wearing a shirt. wearing a shirt and only a shirt.

...from the waist down, the girl was butt naked.

Several conflicting emotions raced through my veins as the screams continued out of my mouth.  Still physically shaking with terror that she had been squished like a bug, I ushered the sasster inside, to the bathroom where her underwear and skirt were lying in a puddle, shoved them on her little body, and explained in a very calm, rational, loving voice that we do not ever go out the front door without a grown-up and we never ever leave our house without underwear or pants on. ever. And then I delivered her to her laughing father and went back in the kitchen to finish making dinner.

If she lives long enough to see her wedding day, mark my words....I will tell this story at her rehearsal dinner.

Pray for me.

1 comment

  1. Still laughing so hard I'm crying...I'm getting weird looks around the office.