the kitchen sink...

...is exactly where i let beth hang out while i was quickly trying to cook dinner tonight.






listen. the girl does not let me cook. if ever i'm facing away from her toward the stove or the counter or the sink, she will come up and pat my legs and say "mommy, mommy!" and pull me away from the stove or counter or sink while simultaneously pushing herself between it and me. then she puts her hands up in the air and begs me to pick her up and hold her while i cook. "while i cook". (read: distracting me entirely from finishing the task at hand). most of the time i put her in her highchair and feed her dinner while i make mine and hank's, and occasionally i can get away with setting her on the counter near me while i work frivolously to get things done, involving her in this and that and finding a gadget or two that i hope will claim her attention. but when neither of those work, i'm in trouble.

tonight was one of those. she just had to be held.

that was, until i turned on the water to de-thaw the chicken. i set her on the counter near the sink and as i was turned away for no more than 4 seconds, when i looked back at her she had both feet in, both hands under the water and a giant smile on her face.





well? it worked for me. i was under a time crunch so i decided to let it ride out.

15 minutes later she was soaked but still happy, dinner was done, and i was perfectly content to dry off every inch of both her and the kitchen floor that had gotten wet in exchange for uninterrupted cooking time.

i've decided that sometimes, you just gotta roll with it. win/win/win.