Not a girl, not yet a woman

Ever since we hosted our GRLL friend Andreea (who was in town from France for an interview) last week, Eska has decided that she really wants to be a *real* girl. It's not enough to be a "good" girl, or even "my" girl - she needs to be a human girl, is the thing.

Saturday, I left the (front snap, nude, padded, pushup, super-cleavage) bra I was going to wear to the Brewer's Art out on my bed with the rest of my intended outfit while I showered. It's been a while since I've had to crate Eska while I washed; she seems to have gotten that the shower doesn't bite and has never kidnapped me. When I got back, she'd torn the entire back of the bra to shreds, and begun to make her way through the padding of the right cup.

Fine. It probably smelled like me.

Although I usually put my shoes away as soon as I take them off, sometimes I leave a pair or two lying around. Eska, disinterested, never gets to them. Yesterday, I left my cute pink flats, recently (five months ago) rescued from the depths of my sister's closet where they had long since been lost, out, not for the first time, it might be worth adding. Within half an hour, Eska had gotten (only) to the left half of the pair, now officially defunct.

Fine. It probably smelled like me, too.

Today, in a moment of deliberate rebellion and general irritation at my ignoring her, she pierced, swallowed the contents of, and chewed up the plastic of a tube of lip gloss.

Now you're just getting fancy, girl.

I joked that I would put lipstick on her for my housewarming party; she decided to take things into her own hands (or, more appropriately, mouth) when I didn't deliver.

Next thing I know, she'll be swallowing my bobby pins and trying to wear my earrings.