My Apologies To Shakespeare:

To Post, OR not to Post, that IS questionable.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous children (in silence)
Or to take up words against a sea of troublesome-ness,
And by exposing, laugh at them?

Thus begins my latest installment of the vagaries of having children:
The other evening Sugee was s'posed to be going potty, washing her hands, then getting into her jammies before having a snack and trundling off to bed. Sugee doesn't always do s'posed to very well -- she has her own little world she inhabits and its... well... different.

After an extraordinary amount of time in the bathroom, I decided it would be wise to go find her. (Bear in mind, this is the same three and a half year old child that two Saturdays ago crammed a Gobstopper up her nose -- as far as she could reach her "pinky" finger!)

This Saturday evening, I found her -- in the bathroom? Yes.
Completely finished and ready for bed? No -- try stark naked.

Furthermore, she was patting at her soaked, wet hair with the used (and very dirty) foot-towel.

Realizing she was merely attempting to copy Mommy, but making a mess of herself, I stifled my smile and laughter, asked what she had been doing, and (of course) received the typical sugar-coated answer of "Nothing Daddy". After some verbal pressure, she did reveal that she had just finished "washing her hair in the bathtub" -- albeit, I hadn't heard any water running (except in the sink) so I was not convinced. Willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, I had her wash her hands and finish getting ready for bed.

Once dressed, she did finally admit that she had NOT used the bathtub to wet her hair.
No . . . my sweet, innocent, blond-haired, green-eyed, cherub-faced daughter had just participated in a SELF . INDUCED . SWIRLY ! ! !

(And for the curious-minded, no: I did not check to see if the water she used was pre- or post-potty -- I really did not want to know.)

I'm hoping she survives being a toddler . . . and that her baby sister doesn't take after her in any way shape or form.

And thus the natives' hue of exploration
Is o'er laid with the hearty cast of memory,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this affection their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of trouble. - Soft you now!
The fair Sugee! Nymph, in my orisons
Be all thy sins -- forgotten.