A Superhero is Born

The other day, while driving home from the city, my daughter pipes up from the back seat and asks, "Mommy, what superhero would you want to be?"  Not thinking much of it, I indulged the conversation and replied, "Elastigirl, but with a blue outfit instead of red."  She then came back with, "Oooo, me too Mommy, but I want a purple suit.  I love Elastigirl!"

Just a quick aside, for those of you not up on your recent superhero jargon, Elastigirl is the ultra-bendy, super-stretchy, Mom hero from the movie Incredibles.

Now, where exactly am I going with this sweet little tale of childhood conversations?  This leads up to yesterday morning.  Mr. Confessions was up early (7-something, which is early for me, and especially on a Saturday), and so Little Miss Confessions decided she wanted to get up too.  Normally this would be alright, but Mr. Confessions had some early morning errands to run and therefore put a kids movie on for Little Miss in her bedroom...  A safe, well contained, very enjoyable space for any child to stay and play.  However, Mr. forgot to put up the safety gate across her doorway to maintain Little Miss's Fortress Knox.

So, while I continued to sleep in, thinking the Fortress Knox in the next room was on lockdown, Little Miss toured about the grounds (my bedroom) finding wonderful things to get into.  I woke up some time later when she crawled into bed with me.  Sound the alarm!!  Fortress Knox has suffered an escapee - or so I thought.

"Look Mommy!"  She exclaimed with glee.  "I'm a Superhero with a suit painted on!"

I jumped up, tossed back the covers, leaped to the floor and ran for the door dragging her behind me.  What on earth had she done!?

In short, my make-up bag had been rummaged through and strewn about her bedroom floor with most of the caps taken off and product everywhere - including painted all over her.  Thankfully it was not a Sharpie marker, and only black waterproof mascara, lip liner and lipstick.  The other lovely find in her make-up mess was a small baggie of feminine products.  They were in the bag and had been strategically stuck all over her bed with the peeled of papers tossed to the floor amongst the make-up lids and lipstick tubes.

And, even though I was livid, I had the sense to take a picture or two in order to laugh at this later in life (or so I'm told).

At this point I'm still not laughing.  I'm sure you are though.  Yes, darling child.  Isn't she?  At least only one of the products was an expensive one and I don't think she actually did much with it.