spooning leads to... well behaved children?

i like to eat my cereal with a big spoon.  delilah just had a conniption fit because i wouldn't trade my large spoon for her mini spoon.   when she finally calmed down and we had the proverbial "if you ask politely -- you shall receive" lecture, i gave her a spoon of equal value in size to mine.  she took one bite with that spoon and decided that she wanted a smaller spoon.  however, the original spoon she had been using was, TOO, small.

(i have a suspicion that i need to lay off my oral retelling of goldilocks.  maybe i'll switch to the pigs.  of course then i might come home to piles of sticks "built" into homes and she might wander about doing a lot of huffing and puffing.)

knowing where to find a "just right" spoon, she took herself to the kitchen to work it out on her own.  she returned with a chopstick.  i simply raised an eyebrow and watched with interest to see how she would proceed with this chosen utensil.  she is now managing to eat her cheerios - one at a time - with said chopstick by skewering them through the hole. 

it might be a long day.  or at least a long breakfast at this rate of consumption.

we have been swept up in a crescendo of meltdowns over the last few days.   i've lost count at this point.  if i really cared to calculate them i think i would require one of those tally clicker thingamabobs.  the most amusing part of this fiasco is the impetus for the tantrums. 

yesterday she collapsed and sobbed on the floor because, "won't work! won't work!"  when i looked to see what wouldn't work, i realized she was attempting to fit the larger of her buckets inside the smaller.  sorry honey, that wouldn't work for anyone. 

she has also been particularly naughty.  testing the limits more than usual.  she's been doing things she knows she shouldn't be doing, all the while peering over her shoulder at me to see what kind of reaction she will muster.

when i was young and naughty (wait a minute...) my parents discovered the only thing i was afraid of was "the BIG spoon".  they would chase me around the house with it and i would behave.  they never actually hit me with the spoon, so it was a total mystery as to why i was afraid of it.  but it worked so they went with it.  my mother even took to carrying a normal sized wooden spoon in her purse because i liked to hide on her while shopping and i wouldn't reveal my whereabouts until she brandished the spoon and made an idle threat. 

so, no.. i'm not chasing delilah around the house with a large wooden spoon to control her behavior.  but yes, i'm in full on "guess who's watching?" mode.  santa's omniscience has a real positive effect on behavior in this household.  how long do you think i can stretch out his power?  july?  april?  at least through the next week?

six sigma

at eight in the morning i was in a shaws buying two dozen ice cream sandwiches.  it was not for a snack attack.  it was for a class project.  however, while the cashier was ringing in my purchase i did contemplate eating at least a third of them myself.  so there i was, waiting to swipe my debit card and daydreaming about binging on ice cream sandwiches, when i felt a presence in my personal space.  i looked to the left and there was a tiny asian woman waiting next in line.  except for her "next in line" seemed to be synonymous with "up my ass."  i looked down at her and she looked up at me.  a disturbing grin spread across her face and she somehow managed to creep closer to me than i thought humanly possible.  i instantly went from a dreamy-floating-on-a-cloud-of-desserts mood to a crabby-annoyed-by-people mood.  this is when i realized i have a real issue with personal space.  i like it.  a lot.

i consider myself a fairly easy going person.  generally speaking, i go with the flow.  but this incident got my wheels turning and i began to consider the many things i am not so easy going about.  they are not deal breakers.  they are more like pet peeves.  or maybe they are just preferences.  i don't know.  regardless, they seem to be increasing in number as i age.  and they seem to be interrupting my flow.

six preferences to ponder:

1)  please do not put black pepper on my mashed potatoes.  it totally ruins the natural flavor.  please DO put a stick and a half of butter on them.

2)  i enjoy looking at colored christmas lights strung around town but i do not like them on my tree.  i do not like them on my house.  i do not like them with a mouse.  not in a box.  not with a fox.  it's strictly white lights for me. 

3)  if you invite me into your home i may adjust your lighting.  please do not find this odd or startling.  i have an issue with lighting.  there is a fine line between too-bright and too-dark.  and if i can see the light bulb, i might coerce you into disposing of your lamp.  or i might go macgyver and fashion you a lamp shade with a coat hanger, toilet paper, and some duct tape.  don't fret, i'm the daughter of a firefighter.  i know my way around an extinguisher should things go awry.

4) speaking of toilet paper... for some reason i have a strange need for toilet paper to be placed on the spool so that the paper rolls from back to front over the top of the roll.  it just annoys the hell out of me when it is not this way.  so much so that i cannot even count the number of times i have rearranged the toilet paper in the homes of people i barely know.

5) why the hell do people serve my whiskey on the rocks with a lime?  is there a plethora of whiskey drinkers that request limes?  i might have to seek out this illusive group and sit them down for a tutorial.  

6) i may have a touch of claustrophobia or an odd worry about a norman bates reenactment.  i never buy solid shower curtains.  i always buy clear vinyl ones.  they always have designs on them.  but they are always clear.  not opaque.  clear.  WAIT... third possibility: am i a closet exhibitionist waiting for someone to mistakenly walk into the bathroom while i'm showering?!

given these oddities, i wonder what my defect rate would be.
though it doesn't matter much since i have no interest in total-perfection.
total perection... now that's another story.