I’m folding laundry and Ella is standing next to the couch. She decides to “help” and starts pulling the folded shirts onto the floor.
“No Ella, please do not pull the shirts off the couch.”
I move her away from the couch and pick up the laundry off the floor and start folding it again. I look down and Ella has pulled more shirts off the couch.
“Ella, you are not helping Momma. Don’t pull the shirts onto the floor.”
I move her away from the couch and pick up the shirts. Ella has turned into The Flash and is already back, pulling off clothes. I pick one up and she has pulled another one onto the floor. Repeat, repeat. I start laughing. I pick her up so she can look at me.
“Ella…(pause to muffle laughter) … you are not helping Momma (more muffled laughter).”
She looks at me. Blinks her eyes and grins. I start to giggle. She giggles back. I put her down on the other side of the room and hurry to put the laundry out of her reach as she races towards me, maniacal giggles escaping from her toothy grin.
(I have a sneaking suspicion that she won this one.)