Last night before bed, Chloe was once again preaching the benefits of being a bucket filler vs. being a bucket dipper.

I am thoroughly enjoying her take on this.

I overheard her saying that someone was a bucket dipper because they asked her what her phone number was.

Perhaps it was a new friend in her Kindergarten class wanting to set-up a play date.

Chloe felt trapped and unable to answer but I did hear her singing a song resembling the tune of “Do you know the Muffin Man?” Though, I’m fairly certain Chloe has never heard that song or even that tune. Genuis?

“Do you know your phone number,
Your phone number
Your phone number
Do you know your phone number
I (tap) don’t know it.”

We had a cuddle while reading one of the stories in her new Pinkalicious book we purchased at this year’s school Book Fair. Well, we purchased it, held the book in our hands but it was merely a showpiece for the book fair so our real copy went on back order and Chloe stood like a three year old Pinkalicious fan crazed wondering why this mother f’n bucket dipper wouldn’t give her the book we paid for that was right in our bucket loving hands.

Chloe was half asleep when she said, “Mommy, close your eyes and count to five.”

Like all bucket fillers, I did what I was told.

I always giggle when my kids tell me to close my eyes and count.

It either means they are going to be making an adorable, silly face, nose-to-nose with me,  throwing caution to the wind when it comes to personal boundaries, or they’ve run to hide behind the door or throw away one of my socks (because somebody must be!)

Four…five…I opened my eyes.

Bare bum wiggling in my face.

Bucket dipper?