There’s an entire, mile long list of developmental milestones we can expect in the coming months from our rapidly growing and changing baby girl. However, I never would have guessed that the ability to rat her mother out for mistakes would come so soon!

A couple of weeks ago, Laney and I were in the kitchen, which is by far our favorite place to be. 

I go there to cook, bake and generally make a mess, and she goes in there to stay in my way, use my legs as a bridge and make as much mess and noise as a 2 1/2 foot tall person can in as short a period of time as is humanly possible.

In her short life, she’s gotten great at making messes and noises.


Her daddy wasn’t home just yet, and I was getting things ready for the evening meal while she played in one of her designated cabinets. Laney was pulling out some pots and pans when it happened – a really big lid fell off of its pan, out of the cabinet and onto the toes of her right foot.

She immediately stopped what she was doing, bent over, grabbed her toes and started crying, and I immediately sat in the floor to calm her. A few minutes, a couple of toe kisses and some dried tears later, she was up playing again, happy as a clam and apparently free of any and all traces of pain.

About 10 minutes later, her father came home. He walked through the house and into the kitchen, where he called her name in hopes of receiving a big hug and a kiss to welcome him home. She was playing pretty intently with a broom, but turned around, smiled at him and then quickly froze in her tracks.

The smile left her face, and a look of pain and sadness took its place. She lifted her little right foot up into the air, looked at him, then looked down at her toes and said “Oooooooooh!! Ooooooh!”

I didn’t know whether to crack up or be mad at her for ratting me out for “letting” her drop a lid on her toe. I opted for laughter as I explained to her father exactly how the horrible, invisible injury had occurred.

An hour or more later, supper was over and the toe injury had once again miraculously disappeared. It was about that time her uncle came to visit. She was walking across the dining room - injury free, mind you - to see what treats he had brought her when she remembered her earlier trauma. 

Again, the instantly stopped, lifted her toes into the air (the left foot this time),  and proceeded to “ooooooh!” her way into some more sympathy.

After a couple more days of playing for sympathy, she finally moved on. Next time, I’ll be sure to keep the heavy pots and pans put out of her reach, and will fully expect to be “told on” if and when she hurts herself again.