The list of things that are missing is starting to look like a shopping list, so it must be time for me to do a Very Serious Cleaning of the house. It's time for me to figure out where Ali Cat is hiding all of the things she steals.
She has done it for a long time. If she can pick it up in her mouth, she might just run off with it and hide it somewhere. Shoes, small toys, socks, underwear ... all sorts of things. She finds them. She decides she wants them. She piles them up somewhere that I can't locate. The last time I uncovered her stash, she had SIX of Alexis' shoes, some money, and a nice little pile of Barbie clothes.
This time I'm pretty sure I'm going to find my ID badge for work and Alexis' necklace for camp. One of these things can easily be replaced. The other has been the source of many, many tears.
Mostly my tears, by the way. The object of misery is Alexis' necklace, much as you would expect, but the loss of it has led to MY misery. Alexis spent half of a night up and roaming the house because she couldn't stop thinking about her beaded necklace that is used to incentivize good behavior at camp. The silly pink string that holds a blue dolphin bead and a couple of rainbow beads means A LOT to Alexis. She was devastated when she realized she couldn't remember where it was.
She wanted to find it.
She couldn't.
That didn't stop her from searching and searching, even at 3:00 in the morning.
I would guess she got maybe four hours of sleep that night, which is approximately NOT NEARLY ENOUGH. The child can function on less sleep than the average human, but even she has her limits. Four hours is past it.
What I'm saying is that the kid woke up pissed, and she was determined to drag the entire world behind her on a rocky path of misery and yelling and tears. She. Was. A Wreck. If she's a wreck, everyone around her needs to be a wreck, too.
Fortunately, The Wreck happened on a morning when Alexis' camp was going on a field trip. One thing led to another and I found myself uttering, "I will give you money for the gift shop, but only if you stop whining and yelling."
She agreed. Happily.
Minutes later, we were driving down the road and she was peacefully chatting away. She talked about Justin Bieber and her friends at camp and all sorts of things, but then she veered off her happy path. She basically ripped my head off for something, I don't even know what, and then turned on her Whine Factory.
WHIIIINE. WHIIIIINE. WHIIIINE.
I have no patience for The Whines. I glanced in the rearview mirror and said, "I thought we agreed you were done complaining."
Alexis thrust her hand into her backback, grabbed her gift shop money, and reached her hand out. "Here. I was wrong. I'm not done whining."
And then she whined all the way to camp.
At least she admits it when she really just needs to vent. Even better, she realizes you have to pay for those hours of therapy, even when your therapist is your mom.