Reason #387 Why Four-Year-Olds Are Little Bastard People

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So, you think it’s all skittles and beer here at the House of Peevish? Well, I am here to tell you that it’s mostly beer, some skittles, and occasionally? A LOT OF FOUR.

Last week, I think I mentioned the field trip to the not-very-farmy-farm on a day that was as hot and humid as Satan’s arsecrack, yes? Of course I did. Well, That Girl and I got home from the field trip around noon, and being as we had turned on the air conditioning in anticipation of OMGWTF HUMIDITY, we came inside to the cool of the house and locked the door and stayed in all day.

The day was mostly uneventful. BDH was going to be away until LATELATELATE for work, so it was just me and the Kid. After some playing and TV time and supper, she went to bed well, and I decided to go to bed. Although, not as early as I had planned to, because of various things to do for the next day, and also Potential Murderous Psychopaths.

(I have this thing about how, when BDH is not home, someone — a Murderous Psychopath someone — might take this as an opportunity to break in and sneak up the stairs and Murder Me In My Sleep. I’ve written about it before. You can look it up.)

Anyway. I was cool and comfy and ready for sleep but then I remembered that BDH was not going to be home until way late. So I went downstairs to turn on a light and the porch light so that he would not be coming home in the dark. And, if I am completely honest, because I figure this will deter any Murderous Psychopath from coming in and Murdering Me In My Sleep while BDH is away.

So I went downstairs, and I switched on the lights, and for whatever reason, I just happened to peek out the front window.

Where I happened to see that THE DOME LIGHT IN MY CAR WAS ON.

Now, certain four-year-olds have learned in the last couple of weeks how to switch the dome light on and off, mostly when they are getting in or out of their car seat. Usually accompanied by cackling laughter, but sometimes not. Because they have also learned that doing things that might get them in trouble are often best done QUIETLY.

Which is what she must have done sometime that day when she was getting in or out of the car. And I didn’t notice it because it was bright out.

So it had been on ALL DAY. SINCE NOON.

So instead of been cool and comfy and asleep, I had to go outside in the humidity in my OHMYDOG SO UNATTRACTIVE jammies and bare feet, and sit in my car and run it for a couple of minutes to make sure the battery had some charge in
it.

Because LITTLE BASTARD KID WHO I LOVE BUT IS FOUR AND STILL A BIT SAUCY TURNED MY DOME LIGHT ON.

And then I spent I don’t know how long wide awake instead of sleeping, emailing the story of woe and dome lights to BDH at work. And hoping that running it for a couple of minutes was enough.

::head desk::

(It was. Thank goodness. I think it may be illegal here to trade four-year-olds for fully-charged car batteries, but on that evening, I was just tired and sweaty and peevish enough to consider it.)

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