Rubber Bands

This morning I woke up at 6:10 AM naturally. I felt good. I did yoga. Then, I decided to put Law and Order SVU on the TV upstairs and tackle the playroom. I got that done and everyone was still sleeping, so I tackled the office (otherwise known as the bane of my existence).

At 10 AM I was shredding papers and the only thing that was left were two rubber bands and a trash bag on the floor. I absentmindedly decided to put the rubber bands up, but then Ivy came in the room. She wanted to understand the ins and outs of shredding papers, why I did it, how the thing worked, etc. I forgot about the rubber bands.

She came downstairs with them minutes later, and I promptly took them out of her hand.

"Ivy, you can't play with these."

"Why, Mommy, why?" she asked.

"Rubber bands are dangerous," I said.

"How?"

I put some heavy thought into my answer. "Because you can poke your eye out." Poking your eye out, getting a shot, going to the hospital all strike fear in the heart of Ivy.

She regarded me with big-eyed awe. "How? How can you poke your eyes out??"

I was sure it could be done, but I wasn't sure I wanted Ivy to try it. So, I got down on her level and looked her square in the eye. "Ivy," I whispered theatrically, "I can't tell you that."

"Why?" she whispered with the same dramatic flair.

"Because, then you might try it. On your sister." She thought for a moment, and then nodded.

"Okay."

New score? Mommy: 1, Ivy: 29874026.