Temperamental Tempura

Sometimes I think she has multiple personalities. She’s fodder for a potential after school special (how I loved those when I was 13). She actually walked up to me today and told me that she wasn’t Jordan. She was Jordansina. I nodded, looked wary, and attempted a smile.

– How are you, Jordan’s daddy? (she actually called me that)

– I’m ok … Jordansina. Where is Jordan?

– Oh, she’s cleaning her room. She’s been very bad. I told her to do her chores.

– What are your chores?

– I don’t have any. I’m a princess.

And with this, she wheeled around and sauntered off, twisting her hips to the side with each step and a flexed hand in the air.

Every once in awhile, we ask her to clean up after herself. She left an exercise mat in the living room. We asked her to roll it up and put it away. She tried wooing us with a coy smile – as Jordansina. We insisted. Without skipping a beat she turned on her heels and stomped off, hips again swinging wildly.

– Don’t ask me to do that!

We stared at one another. Then Jeanette added:

– This is how it always is.

She’s a stir fry of emotion at times, but she’s doing well, otherwise.

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