It's only fun until somebody loses an eye

Let me tell you a story about Tweenie when she was Rascal's age. It's a very popular story in our home, one that never fails to make us laugh. It's also one of those things that wasn't funny at the time, but now... well, you get what I mean.

From the beginning, our daughter was fascinated with eyes. She loved to touch them, especially opened. She also loved to climb into our bed in the mornings and wait for us to wake.

Do you know that feeling when someone's watching you? That was the feeling Husband had one morning, just as he was waking up.

He blearily cracked one eye. He never saw the fat little finger coming. He grunted with surprise and, since his injured eye was streaming with tears, he cracked the other one open. She was waiting for it.

A few days later we were going out for the evening and my sister was coming to babysit. We neglected to inform her of this most recent habit.

When bedtime came, Daughter was restless, so Tantie (that's Auntie's nickname) tried lying down with her in her bed. She gave a really convincing show of being asleep, even pretending to snore gently. After several minutes of Daughter not moving, Tantie tentatively cracked her eyes to see if she was asleep.

She wasn't; she was in position.