Wednesday, June 24, 2009
So, my sneaky four-year-old has learned to tie knots. Perhaps because she doesn’t have shoe laces to practice on, she finds anything string-like around the house and practices her skills on that. Whether it’s the dog’s leash, or the yoga straps we mistakenly left in range, she’ll tie knot after knot, like sloppy macramé, until she cannot tie any more because the whole thing is a knotty mess. This means that I spend far too much of my time untying knot after knot, when I need to use the dish towel she’s tied onto the oven handle over and over, or while she dances around impatiently, desperately needing to wear the dress that I cannot put on her because of the twelve knots she’s tied in the sash. It also means that I just spent several minutes shivering in Starbucks, fighting with my sweatshirt, since she had tied the hoodie strings a million times. I’m all for encouraging any new skill set, but maybe it’s time for her to master the fine art of untying, now that she has the tying thing down cold.