Outing Nana

My name is “Sephira-get-down!” I will be two in October. My grandmother, and yes, I said grandmother, has been hiding me away from the world, claiming she found me on her steps rather than have the world know she is a grandmother. She whines that I’ll ruin her reputation as a hot cougar. I love her, but she is so delusional. So, for her own good, I am outing her.

She takes care of me while my mother works and we have fun all day. This morning around 8 AM, while she was getting out a gallon of milk to make me a bottle, I grabbed an egg from the fridge door without her knowledge, and let to fall to the floor. A second later, she slipped in the raw egg and landed on the kitchen floor with a big flop. She made a lot of different sounds from bad words to ouchy words. The milk was doing all right spreading on the floor, but I thought it could use some help, so I swished it all around with my hands.

Nana hurt her shoulder in the fall and had to crawl through the milk to the living room to pull herself up on the couch. I hopped on her back and rode her as she crawled into the living room. She got up on the couch all right, but then we both realized that the refrigerator was still open. It was a race to get back to the kitchen, but I won, and got to hurl out a few more eggs before my Nana got back to the kitchen and closed the door. Then she decided to mop the kitchen floor. She strapped me in my highchair which is inescapable because Nana bought the special Torquemada Designs for Toddlers highchair. I had to watch her ruin all my work. By 9 AM, we were beginning over and she made me some nice scrambled eggs for me to refuse to eat and fling over the side as I laughed in her face. Finally, she freed me from the highchair.

Nana likes to color, so around 10 AM I appease her and we color. She is old and coloring appears to be at the limit of her technological skills. She makes flowers and I overlay them with an abstract interpretation of her primitive art work. She tapes our pictures to her refrigerator so she can tell my mother that we made pictures today. Both of them really overreact to this “art” because they think they’re creating self-esteem for me. Neither of them seem to comprehend that I can manipulate both of them with ease because I already have a lock of my self esteem.

As I mentioned, I’ll be two in October, and I have already mastered the art of saying ”NO!” which helps me to create healthy boundaries. I know that what is mine is mine, what is theirs is mine, if I gave it to them but want it back it’s mine, if I even think it’s mine, it’s mine. Nana is having a little trouble with observing the “No!” boundaries I’m setting with her, but her low energy doesn’t allow her to fight me for too long and I’ve already hidden her pepper spray under the couch, so she usually capitulates in a matter of minutes.

After I refuse whatever she makes me for lunch, we go to the park. It’s fenced in so she can’t get away. I try to play nice with the other children, but they really get on my nerves, trying to keep all their toys instead of handing them over without a fight. We usually leave after I’ve inflicted my second injury on someone. The 18 month old kids are such easy marks. One good shove, and just like that, you have their toy.

We get home around 3 PM and by then, I’m ready to help Nana redecorate. I like to pull all the cushions off the chairs, clear her counters, and one good yank can take down any curtain. I take my crayons, snap a few carefully chosen colors in half and grind them into the carpet. I think it’s bold and the splash of color here and there updates Nana’s house. I try to coordinate the crushed colors in the carpet with colors that will go well on the wall. I can crush six crayons and draw on two walls in the time it takes Nana to cut up an apple for me.

Around 4 PM, Nana always seems to experience depression. She sits on her couch, not even trying to clean up after me. She mumbles to herself and shakes her head. I like it when she’s nice and sedate like this, it’s the best time for me to put Playdough in her hair or hide her glasses.

At 5 PM, my mother comes to get me. I will miss Nana, just when I’ve got her beaten to a standstill, I have to go and then start all over in the morning. On the other hand, my mother feels guilty that she has to work all day and, man, can I work that. Phase two of toddler domination begins....