By Shannon Magsam, Ladybug’s red-faced mama
So I was flipping through pictures on my digital camera recently, showing them to a woman I was interviewing for the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette. Suddenly I was looking at something very different from her food pictures. As I tried to make sense of what I was seeing, it occurred to me that I recognized that bathroom. And that shower. And that bruise on my right hip from where I ran into my daughter’s dresser. The very same daughter who had apparently taken these lovely shower pictures.
A memory from earlier in the week came back to me: with shampoo-filled water streaming down my face, I sensed the bathroom light shut off and on through my closed eyelids. When I opened my eyes, I looked out to see Ladybug’s shoulders shaking with laughter. When I looked out the shower door she took off. Funny child, I thought.
I had a different thought when I saw those pictures. You know, when I realized she hadn’t flipped the light on and off. That was the flash I saw.
“Ahem,” I cleared my throat, telling the Classy Cook subject that my daughter must have taken those pictures, isn’t that funny? She laughed after hearing my explanation, but still seemed a little suspicious that it wasn’t my daughter who took the shots. Um, embarrassing.
On the way home, I considered the shutterbug’s punishment.
Well, since she loves to take pictures with my digital camera – and it was a few days past the event – I decided to revoke her shooting privileges for a while. I considered being more harsh, but I really do think it was an innocent, childish prank. She did get a good talking-to, though, and knows that it won’t be tolerated again. Or I’m talking a month of privileges revoked and not just those camera-related.
Fast forward to two weeks later.
My parents, sister and her two daughters were visiting NWA.
While the adults were chatting in the living room, the three girl cousins went into my bedroom. I assumed they were looking at the new fish tank occupants. But then Ladybug came out and … well, it was clear that instead of going under the sea, they’d been nosing around in my closet.
That child of mine was wearing one of the slinkiest negligees I own. Did I mention that both my parents were in the room?
As I flushed and hustled her out of the room, my mother called out in an amused voice: “Hey, we’d like to see that one a little closer!”
My one consolation is that I have many years left to repay her before she leaves the nest.
P.S. — If my embarrassing anecdotes didn’t cheer you up this week, I’d like to end this Life With Ladybug moment with the Mom Song (with subtitles).