gooey goodness

So our Belle is a very dainty little lady. She loves to strut around in heels, she routinely requests a "neck" (necklace) or "ink" (earrings), she tip toes around messes, and she hates getting her hands dirty. She knows how to use her fingers to eat food; she just really hates doing it because then she knows she'll be messy. Once, when we were in the car, she was eating some French fries (don't you judge me), and requested some "wat." I handed back her sippy and looked back to see why she wouldn't take it. She was trying to figure out how to grab the cup without the use of her greasy fingers, naturally. She finally managed to palm the cup with both hands, her little greasy digits sticking out, far away from the cup.

So when Grandma Cheney broke out the pumpkins this year, I didn't expect that she'd want anything to do with that gooey mess. Turns out I couldn't have been more wrong. Our girl is a happy girl, but her giggles are reserved for only the most funny moments of her life. (Or the funny faces her Aunt Danielle makes, which always make her curl up in a fit of giggles.) But give her a pile of pumpkin goo, then let her splat in on the floor? GIGGLES. The kind that bubble up without any control. 

And messes. I cleaned up pumpkin guts from every surface imaginable. And I'm pretty sure that if you looked hard enough, you could still find remnants of her hard work. (Thank you Grandma and Grandpa for letting us slime your kitchen.) And because I really don't feel like being picky, what follows is a whole lot of pumpkin-gut-mess-adorable photos. Our little toddler often acts more like an adult than a baby; it was actually refreshing to see her have these moments of pure, childish joy.

And further proof that she is indeed a child: