Stop Laughing

I told Laura a story about what the little one did to me yesterday and I started it with the same disclaimer that I'm going to give you now:

The story was not that funny. Stop laughing. It's not funny. Knock it off. You're a horrible person.

That being said, I have two stories to share:

Yesterday Lois had avocado for lunch. It's one of her favorite lunches and the fact that she tears into it with abandon makes the mess (usually it gets in her hair) well worth it.

She dropped some on the floor so I went over, got down on my knees, and started picking up the mess from the floor around her. While I was down there Lois started giggling and suddenly I felt her hand push against my bald head. Her hand, full of avocado. She smeared it into my skin, laughing.

I guess she thought that since it was in her hair, it would help me grow some hair?

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Today I was in the hallway closet sorting through some stuff, standing in the doorway. Lois came up behind me and even though the closet isn't baby-safe I figured it was fine since there was no way she would be able to get past me.

It got really dark when she closed the closet door behind me and ran down the hallway, squealing.

My daughter tried to lock me in the closet.