We were having a spot of trouble putting Adriana to bed the other night when Larysa offered to take her back upstairs and settle her (for the 3rd time). "How sweet!", I thought, "This is what I've been working towards all my life as a mother, having my children be so helpful and caring."
I thanked her sincerely when she returned and she said she'd read her a funny story and was going to sleep.
Not 5 minutes go by and guess who's come downstairs again? She's lucky I didn't immediately start shouting: "GO TO BED!", but she caught me by surprise with: "Mama, I can't sleep because my room is smoky."
What the...?!!?
I raced up the stairs two at a time only to find Adriana's school skirt slowly melting away on top of her spotlight. Whipping it off as charred flakes of polyester floated to the ground, I looked to Larysa for an explanation.
"I was trying to make her a nightlight because Adriana said she was afraid of the dark."
Well, the intent was good, but results? Not so much...
The next night, Larysa smoked us out again by microwaving the popcorn 1 minute too long and turning it into black blobs of corn with that putrid smell of smoke lingering in the kitchen.
Needless to say, we are keeping her away from all things electrical and fire-related for the next little while...
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