Last night when I was tucking Miss Beccaboo in for bed, she showed me her newly outfitted Anne of Green Gables doll.
She had altered a Barbie doll dress to fit Little Anne.
She proudly showed me how she hemmed it and how the extra length of dress fabric could be used as a shawl.
This morning I took my camera up to her room to document her seamstress abilities (which already far exceed those of my own). While I was up there, I snapped some pictures of her one-of-a-kind decor. It shows you how her mind works, I think.
Behold! A vandalized night-light house with a Santa atop the roof:
Stickered fish swimming in the Atlantic Ocean:
A bridled porcelain duck:
A plastic spider patrolling the bookshelves:
Someone recently asked me if Miss Beccaboo likes to draw. After thinking about it for a minute, I was mildly surprised to realize the answer was no. A couple days later I found out just how right I was when I happened to ask her to draw something and she burst into tears and loudly expressed her hatred of drawing.
She’s a textile girl all the way, that child is. And she loves her fabric.
Which is too bad for her since I detest sewing as much as she detests drawing. Perhaps it’s time for me to barter some sewing lessons for her.
And then I went into her sister’s room and found this bear staring at me.
My kids are weird.
When I came downstairs from my little photo tour, I found the three youngest playing cards in the bathroom: Miss Beccaboo on the lidded toilet seat, Sweetsie on a kitchen chair, and The Baby Nickel on the floor.
“Why are you playing cards in the bathroom?” I asked.
“Because I had to go to the bathroom,” Miss Beccaboo informed me.
My kids really are weird.
This same time, years previous: the selfish game