Her mother's daughter

Two stories about my kid.

Story #1: The case of the disappearing chocolate
Ellison's daycare had a class Easter egg hunt last month. All the parents brought little plastic eggs stuffed with candy, and the teachers "hid" them on the playground (=not really hidden at all, just lying around in the open). When I picked her up, the teachers told me how all the kids were toddling around, picking up eggs. But when they looked up, my child had only a couple eggs but a face full of chocolate. Apparently she was the only one smart enough to bust into the eggs and go straight for the good stuff. That's my girl.

Story #2: One sock, two sock
When I picked her up today, she saw me through the door and stood up from the table (where she was impatiently awaiting afternoon snack #2) and ran for me. With only one sock and shoe on. The teacher had her other shoe, with the sock neatly tucked inside. That's Elle's thing, you see, to take off her shoe (usually just one, she likes to save the other for later) and then the sock, and then tuck the sock into the shoe. It seems she is the only child in her class who does this. The others scatter socks and shoes willy nilly all over the place. They thought we'd taught her to do the sock-tuck thing to keep track of them. Nope. She's just type A by nature. Again, that's my girl.

Her cover girl pose. And yes, I let my child chew on paper towel tubes. Don't judge me.