A Day in the Life of Desireé - Part 2

12:15 PM

Nap time. Two words that strike fear into the heart of every child under the age of eight. My niece is no exception. She despises nap time with a passion. As we made our way to the top of the stairs and crawled into bed, my adorable four-year-old niece stared up at me with big brown eyes and questioned, “Can I watch TV., please?”

With a sigh, I did what every good non-parent does and gave in.

So for an hour, we watched TV. and avoided taking a nap.

1:30 PM

I needed to take a shower before we made our way to town, so we took a quick trip downstairs for toys. I resettled Desireé in the bed and took a quick shower, calling out to her every few minutes to make sure she wasn’t getting in to anything.

After I was done with my shower, I thought of the one thing that would keep her completely enthralled while I fixed my hair and make-up. A bath. This child loves water more than a fish. She likes to dump all of her toys in the bath tub and play games that I can’t even think to comprehend as an adult.

It worked like a charm. By three o’clock, I was dressed and ready to go. It only took a matter of minutes to scoop her from the tub and get her into her freshly washed clothes.

4:00 PM

After a few errands in town, we drove out to my grandparents’ house to play and talk for a little while. We had pizza for dinner, and all the adults watched in amusement as Desireé pulled the pepperoni off her slice and tried to cram the whole thing in her mouth at one time.

She and I spent some time coloring in one of her drawing books, but she soon decided that she wanted to go play outside - so much for that bath. During our trip around my grandparents’ house, my niece managed to stumble through an ant hill, and her feet got eaten to pieces.

She had bites on her heels, the tops of her feet, and even one in between her toes. She cried and begged to scratch them while Mega poured vinegar and children’s Benadryl over the sores.

Needless to say, she spent the rest of the time we had together that day on the couch in my grandparents’ den alternating between telling me that her feet were getting better and asking if she could scratch them because they itched.