Attack of the Bubble Girl

Shhh.

Let’s be quiet.

I’m hiding.

I’m hiding from Natalie.

Why am I hiding from my two year old?

Because she wants me to blow bubbles for her.

ALL DAY LONG.

I can’t blow bubbles all day long. I just can’t. I’ll tell her that we’re all done with bubbles and hide them.

But guess what happens a few minutes later?



SHE FINDS THEM. All the time! She must have some inner bubble detector or something.

I’m starting to have nightmares. A giant bubble is chasing me...and if it’s not a giant bubble, it’s a bubble wand.

Because I’ll be doing my cleaning, right?

And suddenly I’ll turn around and there she is!



What I want to yell is, “I don’t want to blow anymore fecking bubbles!” But you aren’t supposed to A) yell at children or B) use choice words at them. It could damage their psyche or something.

I’ll politely tell Natalie that no, Mommy is done with bubbles and I’ll continue with my cleaning.

I’ll turn around and....



WHY WON’T SHE LEAVE ME ALONE? I’m really not as entertaining as she thinks. I need my space. Doesn’t she need her space? Bubbles really aren’t that interesting. If you’ve seen one bubble, you’ve seen them all.

But....



AHHHHHHHHHHHH!

I need one of those automatic bubble blowers. But I bet it won’t be the same to Natalie. She’ll frown at the machine, switch it off, tip toe behind me as I do the dishes and when I turn around I’ll see…