My-Self.

Let's begin with a beautiful Saturday morning.  I was lounging in bed, and JR whispered to me that he was going next door and away he hobbled.

A few minutes later, I heard the pitter-patter of little feet running around with purpose.  I figured that the set of little feet would come for a little morning snuggle, as is my favorite!  Negative.  

Then I heard a stool being negotiated.  That is rarely good, because most of the things that might possibly be accessed via stool are higher for good reason.

Mom: "What are you doing?"

Mila: "Getting some panties . . . . ." (fair enough)

A few minutes later, I heard "See ya!"

What?!  What do you mean, "see ya"?  How does a three year old think she has the right, or cahoonies to just leave?  Was she dressed?  Where was she going?

After a quick call next door, I was informed that she was looking for Daddy.  Indeed, she had dressed herself.  And was none too proud, if you asked (see that smile?)

Grandma (after giving a lecture to Mom and Dad about locking their doors for this very reason) quickly sent Amelia back home, telling her she needed to brush her hair, use the potty (where I learned she had included striped panties), and eat something before she came back.  After that, Mila was on a mission (ie, it was the quickest she's ever moved).  It was supposed to be a scorcher that day, so I tried to convince her to maybe wear shorts? A t-shirt?  Negative. I tried to do her hair, but she told me she could do it 'her-self'.  

Mom: "Mila, are you having an independent day?  Do you know what independent means?"

Mila: "It means I can do it my-self".

Sure enough.

The next day, Daddy grabbed a treat while at the same time giving Amelia a chore.  Mila left to do the chore, and came back with a spoon.  Licking her lips.  Silly Daddy.

(See the tongue of concentration!)

In case you wondered, completion of the chore was never remembered.