i'm no angel

in my 198,234,827,348,761,237th attempt to get my 6 year old daughter, avery, to clean her room, i left her alone to her own devices--with the naive hope that she will do the right thing, be responsible, and get her room done. no, i wasn't born yesterday, but i am a damn hope-ist, sue me.

when i went to her room, of course, nothing was done. in fact, it was worse. her webkins were lined up in a row and she was reading to them from her father's 1979 copy of "Little House in the Big Woods." which, i'm almost positive he never read it. it is just one of the million things that his mother held onto from his childhood and regifted to us. and i'm almost positive that Avery's not literate enough to read it yet. partly because she's six, and although intelligent, and an above-average-reader, it's too advanced. but mainly because when i was standing in shock in the doorway, staring at the rubble, before she noticed me, i heard her story: "and the mother went to the bunnies and yelled at them. and told them to shut their mouths and quit being such a smart mouth bunny. nobody likes a smart mouth bunny. do you want me to tell daddy bunny what you did today? oh no, the bunny did not want that at all. the bunny then went to the fairy and told the fairy about her mean bunny mommy and how she makes her clean her bunny house ALL. THE. TIME. and the fairy said, 'don't worry. i'll take care of that mommy.'"..... or something along those lines....

she noticed me, turned around, and that's when i was able to look past the wreckage that was her room and notice her for the first time. she had three ponytails in her frizzy-curly red hair, and about 18 hair clips. she was wearing a skirt that has been in the "too-small" basket for a year, and a sports bra that was handed-down to her. and those damn high heels--black patent leather, with a half-inch heel, and a rhinestone heart, of course--that my mother, her "wee-wee", was suckered into buying about 9 months ago. and she had found some lip gloss. and promptly used it as lip gloss, blush, and eye shadow.

she knew she was in trouble. i mean, after all, i had been trying to get her to clean her room since she woke up. and in answering my question, here is the resulting conversation:

avery: "mommy, don't be mad. i was GOING to clean my room. i really was. but then i had these two people jump onto my shoulders."

me: "what in the world are you talking about? don't make excuses to me."

avery: "no really, i'm telling the truth this time. two people jumped on my shoulders. one was a guy in red, telling me to play and not to clean. the other..."

me [interrupting]: "an angel?"

avery: "no, it was you. yelling at me. telling me to clean my room."