Over the past 4.5 years, I've been woken up by my lovely daughter in about a million possible ways.
When she was a baby, it was all very cute. I'd often arise to find her using my head as a pillow. However, I chalk that one up to sheer comfort. My head is abnormally large and I could imagine how an infant crawling on a bed would see my head and be naturally attracted to it. Kind of like Lindsay Lohan gravitating towards an open bar at the Chateau Marmont.
When I'd mention this to friends, they'd often tell me endearing stories about how their kids would wake them up: nuzzling on their neck, jumping on the bed, kissing them on the cheek, or gently cuddling with them in semi-slumber.
Sure, I got a little of that.
Not too much though.
As the Peanut got older and developed a sense of humor (one for which I feel both proud and shamefully responsible,) she started coming up with amusing ways to wake me up:
- Sticking her fingers up my nose.
- Shining a flashlight in my eyes.
- Covering my face with a mountain of stuffed animals.
- Putting her sippy cup in my mouth and force feeding me apple juice.
- Drawing hieroglyphics on my face with a magic marker.
Now, I'm generally a crappy morning person. I'm usually so groggy and unfocused that it takes awhile for me to get my bearings. So invariably when my daughter wakes me up in one of her inventive ways, it scares the living crap out of me.
However, my startlement only makes my adorable little daughter laugh like a freaking hyena. Seriously. Have you ever seen a pre-schooler laugh so hard that tears are rolling down her cheeks? Feel free to come over any morning and witness for yourself.
Now, before I continue any further, I just want to say that the Peanut is the kind of girl who automatically folds her napkin on her lap at a restaurant but will then stick french fries up her nose to get a laugh.
If you sneeze, she'll say "Bless you," but then carefully check your hand to see if you caught any good boogers (apparently, the "good ones" are the green ones.)
In other words, my daughter is unfailingly polite and well-mannered---but dude, let's face it. She's fucking 4 years old!
The point of all this is that the Peanut has found a new way to start my days.
Recently, she's been waking up before me and occupying herself in her little den. As my alarm clock goes off, I drag myself out of bed and wearily make myself over to the master bathroom for my morning pee.
As I lean over the toilet, I'm hit with an abominable smell that can only mean one thing. Sure enough, as I open my eyes, I look down and see that the Peanut has not only taken an enormous crap but has also failed to flush the toilet!
As I scream out her name, I can hear the Peanut laughing in the other room. When I sternly call her over and ask her why she left a giant log in my toilet, she toothily grins and says, "Do you like it, Daddy? It's a present for you!" She then starts cackling hilariously.
Once again, I feel both proud and shamefully responsible.
Meanwhile, does this look like a girl who would leave a floater in your toilet?
By the way, this is the Peanut's variation of "Crying Wolf." Every time she goes to the bathroom and I'm in another room, she yells out, "Help, Daddy, Help! I've fallen in the toilet and I can't get out!" When I inevitably make my way to the bathroom, she jumps out of the toilet and yells, "Just kidding!"
Ahhh...the joys of modern parenting.
Meanwhile, in 15 years, how much is she going to hate that I put this photo of her up here? Sorry, Peanut. Should have thought of that when you were licking my face and sticking jelly beans up my nose at 6:00 am. Payback's a bitch.
I love you, kiddo!