Sunshine is a Character

says my brother.

Oh yes. She is. 

She sleeps with her feet on her pillow, she won't wear pants or shorts to save her life, but wears her pajamas over her clothes, and her church shoes to the park. She naps on the bare floor, hides candy in her bed, has an imaginary "little boy" and a "little girl" who occasionally eat or work or play with her. 

Cute? Yes. Hard to be patient with? Yes to that too. 

I was patient when Sunshine, left alone at the table to finish dinner, calls me to say "Look, Mommy, it's a cheese house!" and I see a big pile of shredded Mexican cheese molded and squished into a stack on her plate.  

I was patient when I was interrupted while nursing Sparky by her little face covered in food and the announcement "I'm eating the bag of bacon [bits]!"

Then when five minutes later I came into the bathroom to see her, face and fingers covered in makeup, gouges and blending across the entire compact's eye shadow, I took her hands and said: "I'm feeling angry!"

"But Mom," she said, "that's why you don't leave it out for kids to mess with!"

True that.  My bad.