She'll out pester any pest, drive a hornet from it's nest / She
could throw a whirling dervish out of whirl / She is gentle, she is
wild, she's a riddle, she's a child / She's a headache, she's an
angel, she's a girl ~ "Maria" from Sound of Music
Within ten minutes of arriving, she had nearly emptied the fish food container into Anneka and Ellie's hair and into the fish tank.
While some children raised in town would be frightened by our large sheep or the tall fences, she boldly climbed the fence to run in the pasture. She was thrilled by the yellow rubber boots I gave her to wear so as not to soil her white Tinkerbell sneakers while she did anything but sneak around here.
She squealed a solid ten minutes while I pushed her on the double swing on our old school metal swingset.
By the time I took her home four hours later, she had brushed her teeth with toothpaste with two different toothbrushes she found on the bathroom sink, ditched her muddied yellow rubber boots to run through the mud in just her white socks and nearly succeeded in untying the cage housing our chicks. Within 30 seconds of exiting my vehicle in her driveway, she had turned on the hose and proceeded to spray the garage or the vehicle parked in front of mine.
Someone someday when she gets closer to school, might be tempted to label her as hyper active or some such curse. They would be dead wrong. She's a three-year old who will do amazing things someday.
