Kids love hula hoops. I think we can all agree on that. I know mine does. She's got a pink one that lights up at various points around the circle while she spins it, although the spinning is rather limited at this point, what with her only being three years old and not very coordinated yet.
The other day, I'm napping on the couch and wake to find her with the hoop, standing next to me. She's naked from the waist down, having taken off her pants and panties, and she's spinning the hoop over her head and between her legs, repeatedly saying, "I kill you, I kill you, I kill you."
I haven't yet decided if this is oddly endearing, in a sort of pornographic Wednesday Addams sort of way, or just more than a little bit disturbing.
Now, keep that story in mind while I tell you this one: a couple of days ago, I'm out in the backyard with the daughter unit, who begins idly kicking at the edges of one of the holes that the demon spawn of a dog we have has been digging.
"Please don't kick that, honey," I say. "You'll get your new shoes dirty."
She looks at me and then puts her head down and says under her breath, "I gonna dig it so deep you never get out."
I think I'll be safe until she can reach the knives in the kitchen. Then all bets are off.
