Apples to apples.

Now that Anna has discovered the wide world of kitchen table climbing, she has become obsessed with my centerpiece of decorative apples.  I usually find the fake apples strewn about the living room in random and odd places or sitting on one of her plates as if she plans on dining on them for lunch.  Or I find them stuffed down her shirt in a glorious attempt to propel herself into puberty.  Le sigh, folks.  Le sigh.
 
I guess she didn’t get the memo that since she’s my child she should probably be stuffing grapes down her shirt. Apples are a gross over statement.


I promise you she did all of this on her own.