A Red-Headed Tale

My daughter is 16 months old. And she has red hair. And I was afraid of having a red-headed girl because of the "stereotype" they come with. You know what I am talking about...spunky would be a nice way of saying it, a handful would be a little more accurate, and firey or hot-tempered is the worst generalization. Of which I have made them all.

Last night, Workaholic had finished cleaning up our office and reorganzing the drawers in one of our desks. Before Sam saw him do this, it was like she didn't realize those handles meant a drawer came behind it. And drawers are FUN! There is STUFF in drawers. That you can pull out and throw all over the place!!

Workaholic was watching her, and she opened the drawer and stood up on her little tippy-toes to look inside. As she was reaching up to grab something, he told her, "Sam, no." And she looked at him, and looked back in the drawer and reached again. Again, he firmly told her, "Sam, NO." She looked back at him, squinted her eyes, and reached into the drawer and grabbed a package of erasers. And threw them. Across the room. And was in the process of looking back at him like, "HA! See what I did!" when he clapped his hands together, very loudly. It made me jump from the other room.

And of course, her poor little feelings are hurt, or he scared her, and she came running to me, crying, arms all up in the air for me to hold her and save her. Of which I did, by taking her back and making her put away the erasers and close the drawer. She still wouldn't go to daddy, though.

And she is only 16 months old. She won't be 2 for another 8 months. She won't be 16 for another 14 + years. Of course, I simply can't imagine where her attitude comes from!