Blast from the past

My busy body daughter. She has more ideas and energy than I care to experience.

Just the other night I found her biting my new interior shutters in the kitchen. Nice little teeth marks as a constant reminder of her. (Reminiscent of the piping I chewed off the back of a seat of a car my parents were test driving. Needless to say, the car became theirs.) She loves to put all of my gluesticks in her purse for safe keeping. They double as her lipstick and treats. She now claps as an emphasis to her dirty little looks and can pitch a fit the size of the room she's in.

So what do I do with her? I love her and laugh because she is me, in miniature. (Expect for the gluestick lipstick. That's definitely not me.)