I stripped her down, opened a giant pad of blank white paper, put it on the wood floor and let her go crazy. This girl LOVES to paint, but the little dollops of paint that I gave her were not enough to satisfy her paint craving. So she put her finger tips together and signed "more" until, one, it is annoying, and two, I finally give in. Within seconds there was paint on the floor, Scarlett's face, my arms, and she was laughing while I chased her down the hall screaming "don't touch the walls", which of course reminded her that there are walls and that was the next thing she must touch.
I swept her in my arms, queuing the inevitable bedtime breakdown. This is the time of day that Chris and I dread. The day has been long, I am worn down, Scarlett is worn down and almost nothing can go right. Within seconds she forgets the fact that I just let her cover the house in paint for twenty minutes (and it was fun), and moves right into toddler freak out mode. Chris says "bath time" which is normally met with a shrill scream of delight and quick stripping of clothes, but this night is different. So Chris says "pool?" and is met with brief hesitation followed by shrill screams and tripping over her feet to the front door. The girl LOVES the pool. Must take after her dad.
I see many father/daughter pool play days in their summer fun future.
