We long ago established that Mila is better at life than any of us, which is in no small part because all she does is chase joy. I realized today that there's another reason she's happier than all of the rest of us put together, though. She figures out how to get to the joy part faster.
Like, she's better than most adults at handling the rough parts of life.
Let me set the scene for you. It was quiet all around the house this morning. Too quiet. When that happens, there is absolutely a 1000000% chance something is being destroyed. Thus, I started up the stairs only to have Mila meet me half way.
Let's pause for a second. I decided to demolish the half wall that goes up our stairs. It will be replaced with a very fancy railing just as soon as all of the parts are delivered. In the meantime, there is a side missing on the stairs. Mila is terrified of this concept. I'm loving every second of it because for once she's not finding every possible wrong/unsafe way to descend. Like, it's great because it turns out she does know how to hold the handrail (there's sort of one on the side that still has a wall) and put one foot in front of the other while walking down one stair at a time. The fact that she purposely met me halfway down the stairs when she's scared of the stairs? That's a red flag.
I saw what she was trying to hide immediately. Either she was headed for an audition with the Blue Man Group or she got into blue paint. There is no option C in that whole situation. Both of her hands were completely covered in blue.
"Whatcha doing?" I asked, preparing myself for what was sure to be a lie.
"Nothing."
Yeah, that's a lie. It's always a lie. Every child ever who has answered the "What are you doing?" question with "Nothing" has been lying. It would be great if they would figure out that we know that.
ANYWAY.
The conversation progressed and after much glaring and asking, "Are you going to tell me the truth?" Mila confessed to ... getting some marker on her hands. I mean, I could see that it was paint, but sure, kid. Nice try.
"Show me the marker," I demanded. It was then that Mila led me to the rest of the crime scene and HOOBOY it was a crime scene. She spilled paint. A lot of it. In another day and time, I would have been furious. However, the carpet is nearing the end of its life, so I guess it should get to participate in a paint party before I tear it out? Why not, right? Let's just go ahead and destroy it all of the fun ways. It has served its purpose.
I couldn't tell that to Mila, obviously, so I feigned anger.
She doubled down on the lie.
I stopped having to feign anything. Real anger rose up and I guess Mila can tell the difference? The very second she realized I was truly mad she did the thing that makes her smarter than basically most adults. When caught red-handed having done something wrong, so many adults will either:
1. Blame someone else.
2. Deny everything.
3. Yell at the person confronting them.
4. Make excuses.
5. Give gaslighting a solid try.
But not Mila! Oh, no. The child has already figured out that the fastest way to diffuse a situation like that one is to sincerely utter two little words.
"I'm sorry."
And just like that, she gets to go back to chasing joy because how do you stay mad when she's genuinely sorry?
(She got to go back to chasing joy AFTER she cleaned up the mess, FWIW. But then she went and had fun while cleaning and DAMMIT, I CANNOT WIN WITH THIS KID.)