I was especially busy doing some work in my bedroom yesterday morning and was thus paying less attention than normal to 23-month-old Corrie. She played happily in the floor, so I didn't think too much about running down the hall for just a second. Really, just a second.
I came back to my room and she was gone. I called for her (normally this elicits giggles that make it easy to find her). Silence. I called again. Silence. I ran through the entire house--there was no sign of Corrie anywhere.
Beginning to get worried, I finally heard a quiet giggle coming from my closet. I peeked in to see Corrie sitting on the floor. Anyone who ever doubts that a toddler has a full grasp of human emotion should have seen the look of utter guilt on my daughter's face. I leaned down to see that she had managed to reach my oh-so-cute and funky beaded Christmas bracelet and had pulled it apart. Further investigation showed her mouth FULL of red, green and silver beads, as well as a snowman charm or two. I swiped them out of her mouth quickly and picked up the remaining beads off the floor. Several were missing. Which leads me to three very distinct thoughts:
First, of course, thank goodness she didn't choke on any of those beads.
Second, DRAT, I loved that bracelet and now it's destroyed.
Third, the odds are good that my daughter will be pooping sparkly beads and a snowman in the next 48 hours.
Merry Christmas.
