Mischief Maker

I didn't do it, it wasn't me!

I was framed, see! It's not what it looks like.

I'll just crawl over there and help you find the culprit.

We've been busily cleaning up this old house to turn the last bedroom into a new nursery. Bags of clothing have been donated to charities, and old piles of things tagged "To be dealt with later", are being "dealt with" now. Even the kitchen has not escaped scrutiny. Aunt Sara, our intrepid Tupperware representative, visited along with Dad over the weekend, and has organized our kitchen and prompted the culling of old trusty pots and pans, some dating back to college days.

Norah loves the house being in a state of flux, with bags, stacks and piles, because it exponentially increases her ability to make mischief. The above picture captures mischief managed and a smile stemming from pride of achievement.

It's almost like she's shopping, perusing each pile or stack like a different store. She's shopped until she almost dropped, with ventures through the bookstore, music store, DVD racks, electronics, clothing stores, the toy store (She OWNS one, by the way), kitchenware, the container store, and checked out a few carpet samples for good measure. Other than that, she has pretty much kept out of trouble.