Mejojac's Memos

Bee's House
Baby girl loves to pick the flowers. It doesn't matter where we are or whose flowers they are. To her, all flowers are fair game. Usually, it wouldn't a big deal for her to pick the flowers in our own yard. But she brings them in the house, pulls them apart and smears the pollen on the walls and floor. Did you know that pollen doesn't come out of beige carpet very well?? It leaves a kind of yellow/orange tint to it. And since we are renting, this is a very bad thing. Goodbye deposit money. So, whenever she picks a flower I scold her just a tad. I'm not sure how many times I've asked her not to pick the flowers.
Today, before she went out, I told her not to pick any flowers. Then I let her outside. In the time it took me to grab my book and get back outside, she had picked this...
Me - just a tad exasperated: Baby Girl! Didn't I tell you not to pick the flowers???
Baby Girl - standing with a HUGE HOT PINK hibiscus in her hands: I didn't pick a flower.
Me - even more exasperated: Well, what is that you're holding?
Baby Girl - sounding a little miffed: It's a bee house MOM!
Me: Don't pick any more bee houses, okay?
Baby Girl: Okay. Can I pick the flowers?
Maybe I need to use reverse psychology. Maybe if I told her to pick all the flowers, then she wouldn't want to do it. Or, the more likely scenario, the bushes and plants would be bare and my carpet would be lovely shades of green, yellow, orange, pink....