Maggie has been up to no good lately. While she is always a handful…stealing food, making messes and climbing on the furniture…her adventures have had more of an impish quality to them than usual. I’m not sure if she has spring fever or she’s been doing a big lead-up to April Fool’s Day. I don’t even want to guess what she will start doing after Sunday’s Easter candy sugar-rush kicks into high gear.
On Sunday Maggie kept stealing the cantaloupe off of the counter and throwing it basket-ball style into the garbage can. Have I taught her nothing…around here we let our fruit and vegetables rot along with our good intentions before we throw them out. Although some days, with the way our poor planning catches up to us, I wonder if I should just wheel the shopping cart right from the store to the dumpster. Seems more efficient.
Later that evening we were sitting down to dinner – hamburgers and Nerdguy’s homemade chicken wings – when Maggie ran down to my end of the table requesting mustard. I thought it was odd because she doesn’t like mustard, but I wasn’t going to discourage her if she had changed her mind and wanted to put it on her hamburger. Anything that girl eats that isn’t a potato chip is fine by me! So I didn’t stop her when she lunged for the bottle. Clearly I’m new here. She flipped the lid open of the very full bottle (we’re always out of everything so of course this had to be the one full bottle in the house) and squirted half a bottle all over the plate of chicken wings. It wasn’t even fancy mustard. At least go for some Grey Poupon. And she may as well have squirted poison all over the wings as far as the other two kids were concerned. When I snapped out of my stunned trance I wrestled the bottle away from her. She spent the rest of dinner saying “Mustard! Squirt!” in a maniacal laugh, while trying to steal it back from me. I ate my dinner while clutching the bottle like a favourite teddy bear. I think it was under my armpit for awhile. Maybe don’t eat the mustard if you come over. She’s been repeating the phrase all week in the same evil villain cackle while I worry that I am going to have to use the results of my childhood laundry science fair to try and get mustard stains out of everything if she decides to go on a crime spree.
After dinner Grace showed me that she had hidden a Luck of the Irish sticker behind the picture on the wall in the kitchen. She put the picture back in place, swooped the blanket she was wearing as a cape, and knocked the picture down, smashing the glass.
I began looking for hidden cameras and also wondering if we could fast-track the twins’ ADHD assessments. I think we’re ready to rubber stamp that report before we even start.
Maggie is literally chasing squirrels now. She has a glass door out of her classroom that I have always worried about her escaping from. Normally it is fine, and she has apparently never bothered with it in the year she has been in that class. Until last week, when she bolted for it twice, running across the room because she saw a squirrel outside. Monday and yesterday she ran into the parking lot after school because she was chasing squirrels. There’s no warning, and she doesn’t listen to stop or wait when she is chasing an animal. It’s terrifying, and she thinks it’s funny, which is more terrifying.
She has also upped her food stealing game. She’s figured out how to use a credit card to break into the storage room where we keep the fridge with the yogurt drinks for school. Her endgame is either to drink the entire case before we catch her, or if she hears us coming, flee the scene, leaving the case of drinks out on top of the freezer to rot. I throw them out and then she fishes them out later and drinks them. I think we can all venture a guess as to where things go from there.
Monday she ran across the room twice at lunch and stole a classmate’s crispers. She may have learned that move from her mother.
Yesterday she spit apple sauce and chocolate milk on the classroom floor.
Today she opened the classroom door to outside and dumped her water bottle out.
And as I type she is casually hanging around the two cases of Girl Guide cookies like I’m not going to notice or something. She’d make an excellent alligator.
I don’t know what has got into her, but I think it has to be the time of year. My timehop app kindly reminded me of the time two years ago that Maggie slipped away during Easter dinner to pour water from the upstairs down to the foyer below while singing “waterfall.” Spring fever. April foolishness. Is it summer yet?