There is this really annoying sound that Alexis can make with her fingers and her face and, well, I can't really explain it, but I'd rather listen to her making that sound over and over and over again into a megaphone than be on the losing end of her Jedi Mind Tricks. Which is to say, good grief I hate it when the child proves that she remembers every freakin' thing I tell her.
The whole thing with the pierced ears sort of worked out in the end, with her getting to have her ears pierced, just as I promised her an entire year prior. In exchange, I got this alien life form who actually sleeps in her own bed. No, really. She completely conformed into a law-abiding citizen once I let her get little slivers of white gold stabbed into her head. It kind of makes me wonder if I could negotiate to get her to stay in bed past 7:00 am if I were to just promise her she could get her nipples pierced. Totally a fair trade.
I should mention, however, that the pierced ears are this little Jedi Mind Trick that has Energizer Bunny-like staying power. Christmas Day we were driving to Epic Holiday-Palooza #2 when a little voice squealed from the back seat, "IT'S CHRISTMAS!"
"And?" I asked. I would have thought that the mountain of gifts she had already opened that day would have driven that point well past home.
"I get to change my earrings!" she replied.
Oh.
That.
I had promised her she could take out the studs for Christmas, only I promised it WAY, WAY, WAY back in August. I can't remember what I had for lunch today, but the kid can remember five syllables I used to shut her little trap at a time when I was desperate for silence. "Wait until Christmas." WHOOPS.
Fortunately, I had vaguely recalled making some sort of random promise about earrings and Christmas, so Santa had stumbled into a big box store in search of some child-friendly earrings just two days prior. Several hours, an aneurysm, and a BAH HUMBUG, later, the one cashier in the entire store had finally managed to swipe those earrings across the laser lighty thing (technical term) and taken some money. Alexis bringing up anything to do with earrings was sort of a special Christmas gift that conjured nightmares and flashbacks and the PTSD associated with that shopping trip.
Oh, and did I mention that *Santa* had bought the earrings and not me? Yeah. Santa hit our house in Pittsburgh on Christmas Eve, a full six hours away from where we were when that little voice was all EARRINGS! EARRINGS! NOW! NOWNOWNOW!
Try explaining to a four-year old that the only place that sells earrings on Christmas Day is probably a place that specializes in tattoos, blow, and STDs. It's fun.
Eventually the whole earring thing worked itself out. Along the way, I decided to start tattooing anything that I promise Alexis somewhere on my body. First up, tonight's promise.
As I was tucking her in for the night, Alexis turned to me and asked a fantastic question. "When I'm all grown up, can I call people stupid?" she asked.
She's not allowed to call people "stupid," right now. I have told her repeatedly it's a grown-up word and that she can't use it when describing people.
"Sure, you can call people 'stupid' when you're an adult," I replied. I mean, why not?
"Do you promise?" she asked.
"Absolutely. I promise," I replied.
I'll go ahead and just get "Stupid" tattooed on my forehead this weekend so I can remember that I made that promise.
