Lest you think I was making it up or just exaggerating:
I had an epiphany today. I finally know what Ellie reminds me of:
A drunken frat boy.
Now, this is all theory and conjecture, of course because I don’t really know any frat boys at the moment but my brother was one and I can imagine . . .
Anyway, here’s why I make the comparrison.
Ellie is impulsive and, in doing so is utterly destructive. The butter was just the beginning. She emptied all of the drawers in their room yesterday. She filled her crib with her wipes. Twice now she has covered herself in paint. Markers? Lord save us, she thinks she’s the star of “Rapid Ink.” And she loves nothing more than emptying everyone’s water bottles onto the table so she can splash in the puddles. If she DID belong to a frat, they’d call her “Tornado” or “Hurricane” for her fury.
Speaking of fury, is she ever aggressive – growling, kicking, in-your-face aggressive. All of her siblings shrink in fear and prefer to just let her hulk-iness be rather than tangle with her because they will lose. It gives her a swagger in her walk.
And when I lay her down? The first thing she does is check her feet for toe jam. I’ll get a picture of it tomorrow if you need proof.
But really, who does that? You know, besides frat boys? Let me know if you can think of anything . . .
She’s going to make an AMAZING saint! And I mean that!