“Pillowcase?”, Abby requested.
“What do you want the pillowcase for?”, a fair question I thought.
“Um… on feet”, she said as she took apart the pillow herself.
“No, you’re not wearing the pillowcase. It could get dirty, and that’s what you sleep on.”, I explained.
“No?”, she questioned, clearly understanding what she wasn’t supposed to do.
“No”, I replied sternly.
A devilish smirk rose from the corner of her lips as she disappeared into her room, emerging again a few minutes later stuffed inside the purple jersey case like a potato sack. Gathering dirt from the floor exactly as I told her not to do. This is where, if I had more leverage, she would be fired for insubordination. Respect my authority!
“Ghost! Boo!”, Abby instead declared in merry victory.
Circumstances aren’t entirely important, because this discussion is repeated about a hundred times coming 3 opposing directions, wherein you have a small glimpse of my day. I tell them not to do something, the kids do it anyway. I have a saying that it’s “like talking to air”. Wasting my breath. Abby, however, is now at the age where she’s testing her boundaries, thus testing me. Same stuff, different day. It’s like she doesn’t listen on purpose. So bizarre for an almost 3 year old, I know. I should get used to it, you don’t have to tell me. But it doesn’t make it any less exhausting.