Miss Diva, despite only being 10.5 has entered that phase where I frequently wish to duct tape her mouth shut and toss her in a closet. One minute she’s sweet and funny and the next she’s moody and argumentative. To think, I’ve only eight more years until I can ship her off to college!
I have two more years before Miss Drama becomes Miss Melodrama. Somehow, I suspect that won’t be quite as bad. Maybe I’m just being stupidly optimistic, but my logic is that Miss Drama already tests my patience regularly, so I’ve developed a sort of tolerance. Miss Diva, on the other hand, pulled a bait and switch. She’s been fairly well-behaved and even tempered for much of her life, with little bouts of misbehavior, which is to be expected. Now I have to deal with her evil twin that thinks I’m a goody-goody and that life is miserable, and that being an adult is SOOOO much better. Goodness, even her lunches are not to her liking. I’m also not quite buying that she preceded me in the house by under a minute and locked the back door on accident. I pretended not to notice, as she unlocked it without fuss. I think it was some subtle, passive aggressive, “how far can I push before Mom blows her fuse?”
Then, when I didn’t get pissy, Miss Normal Diva returned.
So, when I pulled my glossy, shiny copies of Conjurings out of the UPS box and she asked if I was going to be famous, I said, “I don’t know. It might be nice, and then again, maybe not.”
Just in case though, let’s not tell Miss Diva about my little duct tape fantasy. It’ll be our little secret.