"Focus, Alexis," I say. CONSTANTLY.
I say it when she's eating too slowly. I say it when she's dawdling through a parking lot. I say it when she takes the scenic route to get her shoes on in the morning. I say it when she's supposed to be zipping her coat. I say it when she's supposed to be brushing her teeth. I say it when she's just standing there breathing because she's probably supposed to be doing something while she breathes.
The point is I say it A LOT.
And sometimes I say it when Alexis and I are walking through the aisles of Target, in search of nothing in particular. Alexis seems to think that "in search of nothing in particular" is code for "let's just camp out in the toy department all night long."
The last time I said it was this past weekend when we were grabbing really terrible Valentine's chocolates for 90% off, which, the hell? Why do they even make orange cream-filled chocolates? Nobody likes those disgusting little balls of goo, not even when they're practically free. Anyway, we were walking down the aisles and a certain short person was dragging as if she had a ball and chain attached to her ankle.
"Alexis, please focus," I told her.
"I can't focus when there are so many pretty things," she replied.
Huh. I have no idea where she gets that from.
::cough::
