Trixie and Dixie were pretty impressed! and when the good times were over and it was time to shut the door, I soon discovered that Dixie loved it a wee bit more than Trixie did and took it quite personally when i decided to close the door...
What happened next will go down in our family history as the night mommy needed a young priest, an old priest, a vial of holy water, and a flask of whiskey to overcome the terror from within. I have a picture of the incident, but until i have a chance to upload it, you'll have to make due with this illustration:
as i was shutting the door, Dixie started to protest.
as the door was being shut, she started jumping up and down.
by the time the door was shut completely, she clocked completely out. This included
- throwing herself down onto the floor
- turning read in the face
- biting her fingers on her hand in rage
- rolling across the floor to my legs
- pulling herself up by my pants legs
- trying to rip my pants off my body
- making a grab for my shirt, which i deflected
- throwing herself back into the floor and,
- while stiffening her body, howling in rage.
throughout the entire thing, Trixie kind of stood off to the side, eyes round in disbelief. Finally she and I sat on the couch and just watched the drama unfold. This was also my only way of making sure Trixie didn't somehow end up with her toupee torn off in the event Dixie decided to take her tantrum to Cage Match levels.
and this went on for 15 minutes until she was finally finished. after which, we went to the bathroom, put cool water on her face, and dried it with a towel.
and for the rest of the evening, she was my same old sweet toddler. by this time, the rains had stopped outside as well.
these sudden summer storms really do inspire "terror" and "running," don't they?
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