We had a Halloween party to attend tonight. The party was hosted by one of Dave's co-workers. I get super nervous when any event includes Dave's co-workers. Catch up on my neurosis here.
I should have known the night was doomed when it started like this trying to get some pre-party pictures.
Dave and I then kind of just straddled the entry way to the kid area so we could keep an eye on Icie and still interact with his co-workers as they entered the party. Icie was having a blast. There was a little coloring table set up and she was making her rounds "talking" to each kid as they colored. The table was full of girls that seemed to be aged anywhere from six to ten. The girls thought she was cute and funny. This lasted about twenty minutes.
Icie saw her opportunity to wreck havoc and took it full force. There was a small step down into the next room where most of the boys were playing. Icie slide her butt down the step and took off towards an unsecured floor lamp. Dave, myself, and one of the enlisted teenage girls were on her heels, but she was too fast.
The lamp crashed down and a poor little boy dressed as batman that was close to the scene of the crime about crapped his pants. Dave had to lift him over the broken glass and seemed a bit freaked by that too, poor kid. Icie wanted to keep on playing.
I took her outside, while Dave cleaned up her mess. I kept my inner chant going, "She's not even two, she's not even two, she's not even two." These things happen. I had a little talk with Miss Thing, direct eye contact, stern voice, and perhaps a little squeezing of her hands to get my point across. It seemed as though maybe just maybe the talk worked, because when we got home my child, the one who's feet never touch the ground, followed directions and sat nicely for a picture.