The dog loves mud. I think she was a little piggy in a former life. There’s a spot on the hillside that keeps filling up with water and creating the most beautiful little piggy wallow. At least once a day the dog will come bursting through the front door and prance about gleefully, her feet mired in mud, a very clear contradiction to this stupid white carpet. This is the point at which the nearest aware adult will start flapping his or her arms and yelling at the dog to get out. Lily thinks this is a brilliant scene and has taken to sharing in the arm flapping and hollering. Man, do we love to holler in this family.
Maya had already made her first muddy entrance and exit this morning when she decided she’d sit outside the closed front door and bark repeatedly at the indignity of being banished to the porch for her royal muddiness. Lily decided to take care of the situation for me, bless her pajama clad little heart. She stalked over to the front door, opened it up a bit and proceeded to explain to the dog why she cannot come in. I was able to figure this out not because of the clear and concise sentences coming out of her face, no, she’s still a gibberish babbler a lot of the time; I was able to get her gist because she was copying my gestures, tone and pattern of speech exactly. It was a mini-me moment and I was choking on my breakfast trying not to ruin the moment by falling down laughing.
She closed the door and turned to tell me all about it, at which point the dog started her barking again. Lily spun on her heal, whipped open the door and firmly yelled, “NO BARK, NO BARK!” while pointing her finger for emphasis. A few more rounds of “NO BARK” and then she slammed the door shut and (get this) crossed her arms, shaking her head and “telling” me what a pain in the ass that dog is. Must not pee pants in front of toddler; must take her seriously. “Thank you for helping, Lily. You told her, huh?”
It was then that my girly had a change of heart. With a big sigh, she turned and cracked the door again, delivering to the dog a few soft words and admonitions before opening it wide to allow her entrance. I told Maya to stay on the landing and Lily went bustling off importantly only to return with a rag. She chattered to the dog while she cleaned off her muddy paws. You got that, right? The kid cleaned the dogs feet.
She’s already an adult. I birthed this kid only two years ago and she’s already out pacing me in forgiveness and housekeeping. I swear, if this keeps up, I can retire early.