Washing the Kitchen Floor

Since I'm finished with my thesis, I feel more inclined to blog. Maybe after doing it again a few times I'll get back to normal and just wait for my wife to post pictures.

Today we went to the park for an end-of-the-school-year picnic for the seminary. Most of the students were there with all their (immediate) family members. We were there at noon to help setup. We left around 6. When we got home, Hannah didn't want to come inside--a normal occurrence. We left her in the van in the garage, which was probably a sweltering 95 degrees by that time. Hot and stuffy.

After a few minutes, Anastasia checked on her. Hannah was asleep in the car. A few minutes later, Stasia ventured out to get Hannah out of the van and into bed. By the time she got to the kitchen, Hannah was in a full screaming rage saying "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I WANT TO GO TO THE VAN!!!!!!!!"
She ran out the kitchen door, then down to the garage screaming all the way. I followed her and let her into the garage, then back into the van. I figured she could stay out there for a while. She even buckled herself in! (We can't get her to do that when she's in a good mood or when we're late). She was determined to DIE in that van. She wouldn't even come inside for ice cream. Her loss (it was good, too).

After about 30 minutes, I finally decided to bring her in again knowing that she wouldn't like it. Again, another temper tantrum. This time she was stomping at the kitchen door, demanding that I let her out; for a moment she was the anti-Ghandi--Uber Aggressive, Angry, and Ready to Kill. The fury in her eyes matched the anger in Shrek when he wanted all the fairy tale creatures out of his swamp in the first Shrek movie. She was hitting the door, stomping up and down, and screeching.

I warned Hannah that if she didn't calm down, she would get something very shocking. She didn't compute. I told her to calm down; she got louder. So I took some advice based on a story from a friend. I filled up a large pot with cold water from the kitchen sink. Then I showed it to Hannah, and told her that if she kept screaming, then I would pour it on her. She apparently thought I was bluffing, as she kept stomping and kicking the door.

With her facing me and growing more vehement, like a drunk Raiders fan whose motorcycle had been stolen, WHOOSH! I threw water at the door. Then it ran down all over the kitchen floor. She just happened to be standing in front of the door. She screeched for 2 seconds due to shock, then I told her to stop screaming or else there would be more coming.

She's been an angel for the last 2 hours. I still can't figure out how her clothes got wet though...