So, we decorated the tree last night, which is one of my favorite things in the world to do. I get to sit there, unwrapping all the ornaments from my 25 years on this earth, reminiscing about them all. One of my very, very favorites is my little light-up collectible Iron Man ornament. Dude's a badass, alright? Leave me alone.
Boyfriend made all sorts of fun for me for my Iron Man infatuation last night over the dang ornament. Whatever.
Sev made a big deal about the Iron Man ornament this morning. I re-hung it extra high on the tree because I knew she wanted to play with it. I told her that it wasn't a toy and not to touch it, that it's meant to hang on the tree.
Twenty minutes later, I'm folding laundry in the bedroom and I hear, "Mom! I broke Iron Man!" Okay, how the kid got this thing down is beyond me. But I walked into the living room to see my darling Iron Man laying on the floor, decapitated. Obviously I got mad. I asked what happened and how she managed to rip his little plastic head off. She said, "I broke him. I twisted his head off." Charming.
So she got scolded and sent to her room so I could cool off a little. She came out of her room a minute later and asked if I was mad. I said, "Yeah, just a little bit." Her response? "Mom, don't be mad and sassy."
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