The bottemless pit in our house is also lovingly know as B's stomach.
I swear to you, internet stalkers, if I have to buy any longer pajamas, jeans and shirts that will cover up one three-year old's budda belly, I may sigh a very big sigh.
She will eat dinner, and then say "I is hungry, I needs a snack" and she proceeds to eat an apple, a bowl of crackers, toast, applesauce and yogurt...and even then, she would probably shove more in if one would just provide it to her.
We also see a lot of baby-butt-crack in our house. I think this is a combination of the above-mentioned budda belly and the somewhat lower rise of children's pants. I've told this story to some...but we were in Target and she was crouching on the front end under the plastic part of the cart, lodging herself between the plastic and the metal---put your soda here---base of the cart...with her bottom sticking out towards the front of the cart...towards the oncoming traffic of others in Target. After I saw a glance and giggle towards that area, I speed up in front of the husband to check her out and she is totally butt-cracked out.
It was hilarious, it really was....totally gross, but somewhat sweet because is was a cute little blondie and not an overweight plumber (no offense! You know the stereotype) or worse yet, a thonged soul with a muffin top.
I would have giggled if I had seen it coming towards me too.
She keeps me laughing in many ways. Crying inside too, that is for sure.
This is the child that I have had to call poison control on since she decided to sample a sample pack of "barkeepers friend" Some toxic powdered cleanser.
I have had *her* dial 911 successfully and had to call them off after they called ME letting me know there was a call just placed from our number. (SIGH!)
She crawls on top of the refrigerator to get anything related to sugar. And has gotten so sneaky, that if she can't get it open with her teeth...then she is well prepared with a pair of scissors to open that sugar.
Believe me, I HIDE scissors non-stop and she can still find them! I don't know how, I don't know where half of them even come from, but I find them in her little hands far too often.
She used to pull the charger cord out of the baby monitor and touch it to her tounge. I had the husband check and see if he got himself a volt or two from it, and sure enough, he did. And she did this more than once!
She is a sneaky little three-year old. In fact, I sometimes forget she is only three due to the smartness level she demonstrates. Or at least she attempts to lead me away from the trouble she has gotten in to in the corner by the couch.
"What are you doing B?"
Which definitely means something. And something bad.
She has learned how to write the letter B and is getting the rest of her name down too, so we find the letter B on random items throughout the house.
I guess it is time to hide all writing utensils too.