If a ponytail equals one stretchy rubber band + one fuzzy, then I have 12 elastics to remove from a certain someone’s head this evening.
If a warning administered before school that she can take her tights off when she’s hot is fine as long as she doesn’t give me a hard time about putting them back on at pick-up time was successful, then I’ll have accomplished something very important with my day.
If she ever uses the verb ‘sweat’ in the conventional manner instead of her subject/object role reversal manner, I’ll be able to stop laughing at the phrase she utters consisting of but they’re sweating me!
If she ever asks why I can’t help laughing at that phrase, then I’ll have to age-appropriately idiomize that in the lexicon of my high school years, someone ‘sweating me’ had inappropriate sexual feelings in my direction.
If I can ever figure out how she makes that close-mouthed sound that's eerily accurate for a duck call, then perhaps I can find the patience for her every-eight-minute display of such strange talent during our twice-daily 35 minute commute.
If I can convince her to go back to wearing footie pajamas, then I'll have so many fewer socks to post-laundry pair. And if I can convince her to wear the same underpants morning and night, then in that act alone I'll save several loads of laundry a month.
All in the minutae of waiting...