Five minutes of Nissa

“Nissa! FREEZE! Tyler’s fingers are in that door! Don’t shut it!”

“Spit that out. What is it? Eeew? Where did you FIND this?”

“Out of the doggie’s house, you. You know you’re not to go in there.”

“That’s Tyler/Noah/Emily/Timmy’s book/toy/game/puzzle/article of clothing/body part. Give it back, miss.”

“Indie doesn’t like it when you sit on her head. Off.”

“Noah doesn’t like it when you sit on his head. Off.”

“Tyler doesn’t like it when you — Nissa! Stop sitting on people’s heads!”

“What on earth is Tyler’s boot doing on the dining room table? … What’s that, Emily? Nissa did it? Did you see her? … Well, unless you saw her, we can’t really… oh, never mind. I’m sure you’re right.”

“Did you fall off the bench, sweetie? I will kiss it better — and YOU will stay off the bench, silly girl!”

“Those are not your shoes. Put them back in Emily’s bucket, please.”

“Blocks stay in the kitchen, sweetie. Back you go.”

“Off the stairs, young lady.”

“We sit on the couch, we don’t jump on it.”

“Nissa, if you keep swinging on the sheers, you are going to pull that whole curtain rod down on your head. Let go.”

“I am reading THIS book to everyone. We will read that book later.”

“No, THIS book. I will read that one next.”

“OW! Nissa! That hurt. Books are not for shoving up my nose. I am holding that book now.”

“We are playing Sleeping Bunnies, baby. You can be a bunny, or you can play a different game over there, but you cannot drop blocks on their heads.”

“Where is your other shoe, Noah? We can’t go out until we find your other — oh, thanks, Emily. Where did you find it?” (Three guesses, first two don’t count.)

“LOOK at this puddle! How you can get so much water out of a leak-proof cup, child, I will never know. Here’s the rag, baby. Wipe it up.”

“Goodness, Tyler. How did you get that red mark on your forehead? Did you bump yourself? You did? On Nissa’s head? When she was hugging you? Oh, look, Nissa has a red mark, too…”

“Did you pinch your fingers? Well, that’s what that elastic band is for hon — to keep your fingers out of that cupboard. Away you go!”

“Oh, Emily, what a fabulous block tower! Did you do that all yoursel–oh, Nissa!”

“You SIT on the tricycle seat, baby. SIT on it!”

… Or maybe that was just three minutes. I tend to lose count…