This is what Sophie does all day...She makes piles. She goes around gathering random stuff up from various places, in various rooms, and she piles it all in a heap.
Why, you ask?
I have no idea.
I've asked her many times, "Sophie, what are you going to do with all of that stuff in that pile?"
Her answer is always the same:
"Well, Mama. These are my things. I like them like this."
You like this stuff? In a pile. Close to you.
Yes, those are panties you see. Her size four Fruit of the Loom drawers. Dirty ones, in fact. Confiscated from the laundry room. Along with Russ's van key and hair gel, her cherished blankie, the telephone book, Baby Huggums, her princess dress-up tutu, my Real Simple magazine, the paper wheel cover off of Russ's new bike, her not-totally-consumed cup of orange juice from this morning, a clothes hanger....
And various other assorted hoarded stuff.
Including the telephone, which was at the bottom of the pile and totally unfindable, until it started ringing.
And then there's this:
Sophie's version of decorating.
I can't even find half the deck anymore because it's been crammed in between books and in crannies here and there throughout the house. Cinderella under a pillow on the couch. Princess Jasmine in the silverware drawer.
It does add a bit of mystery to my day. Especially when I lift the toilet seat cover and find Snow White hovering on the rim.
Poor princesses. I'm sure this is not how they envisioned their life.
AND, last, but not least, to top off today's oddball activities...
This morning before our errands, Sophie ran to her room, yelling over her shoulder, "Wait, Mama! I have to get my purse!"
Aw, isn't that just so cute? Next thought: What is taking her so long?
Finally she emerged with her purse. Sopping wet and dripping as she made her way nonchalantly to the garage. (Apparently it's perfectly normal for one's purse to be leaking liquids.)
"Sophie? Stop. Why is your purse wet?"
She came over and unzipped it to show me.
"Oh, see, it's just because of my water. I might need it."
Yep. I think Aunt Becky said it best. The girl just ain't right.
But, darn if she isn't squeezeably likeable anyway.