I witness one of Amandas newest habits this morning. She took a swig of milk and spit it back into her cup. EW EW EW EW!
I informed her that that was not okay and not to do it again. I didn’t think about it after that. It skeeved me so I moved on.
I have a very nice coffee cup with a lid to help keep it warm when I forget about it. I forget where I put my cup all the time.
I had one of those moments today when I had to randomly abandon my cup to parent. I came back to it an hour later and took a mouthful and felt a floater.
Not much grosses me out like a piece of something floating in my drink and subsequently in my mouth.
Like many moms out there I spit my coffee into my own hand. I was hoping to not get any on my newish carpet. I seriously underestimated the capacity of my mouth. I ended up with coffee down my shirt, on my shorts and all over the carpet.
Luckily the carpet is the exact color of my coffee. Good call landlord man.
The offending item was left in my hand. My mind went straight back to Amanda na dher new trick. I hunted her down in her room. With a big grin she copped to spitting in my coffee.
I wanted to laugh. I did laugh while I sent her to time out, actually. Discipline with a smile isn’t really discipline. She immediately began to shake her tutu’d booty to the music from Sesame Street. I laughed harder.
I couldn’t keep her in time out. Discipline fail.
I’ll just have to keep a better eye on my coffee cup.