Some Cereal With Your Sugar?

This morning after pouring myself a cup of coffee, I went to the den to drink it and wake up, with John 'reading' "Blueberries for Sal" next to me. Mary remained in the kitchen, where I had left her playing with the toy kitchen. When I finished my coffee, I walked back to find Mary sitting on the counter with the now empty bowl of sugar, and a plate and spoon encrusted in moist sugar remains. The instant she saw me, Mary shook her finger at me and said tauntingly, "No, no, no!" I really should not have paused to take a photo, as she so obviously knew ahead of time that she should not have done it, but I failed to resist!

Two other decidedly "Mary" stories from yesterday:

#1: Mary had a potty accident, but didn't say a word to me. When I discovered she was wearing wet underwear, I was shocked because every other time when she has an accident, she begins screaming immediately, "Potty! Potty!" I asked incredulously, "Mary! Why on earth didn't you tell me that you were wet?" That child, all of 19 months old, looked at me and used a tone of voice like I was pitifully dim, replying, "I'm wet." If she knew how to roll her eyes at me, she would have done it!

#2: I was cooking while the children played in the screened-in porch. I was listening to repeated sounds of "wheeeeeee!" CRASH! giggle, giggle, giggle. After a few minutes (why did I wait so long?) I decided to investigate. John (the cautious engineer who does not risk his own injury) was pushing the tricycle on which Mary was riding. John would push it, running as fast as he could, and crash Mary and the trike into various items of furniture around the room. Mary held on tightly, staying firmly on the trike and avoiding any injury, thus her peals of laughter at the exhilaration of it all. I squelched my normal mother's instinct to Stop All Fun Involving Risk, watched for a few minutes, and decided that they had it under control, so I went back to my cooking.