Warnings & Washcloths

Justin woke up hearing a strange noise—squeak—clunk, squeak—clunk. Ellie had discovered that she could now reach doorknobs and open doors by herself. She stood outside Justin’s bedroom door, opening it and shutting it.

“Ellie, stop it,” Justin called out sleepily. “You’re going to smash your finger.”

Squeak—clunk. Ellie ignored Justin’s warning. She was having too much fun pestering her big brother.

The door opened again, and Ellie poked her head in and called, “Justin!”

But this time as the door shut, Ellie’s finger was in the way, and the door smooshed it.

“Whaaaa!” Ellie cried.

Justin jumped out of bed and raced to the door. Ellie was sitting in the hallway, holding her sore finger.

“Owwyy!”

Mom came running. “What happened?”

“Ellie was playing with the door,” Justin explained. “I told her not to.”

“I got an owie on my finger,” Ellie whined.

Mom took Ellie to get a bandage while Justin got dressed for breakfast.

“What a way to start a day,” he grumbled.

As he sat down to eat, Justin noticed that Ellie’s high chair was standing across the room, far from the kitchen table. Suddenly, to his surprise, it began to move. Then Justin spotted two little hands pushing the chair toward the table.

“Ellie,” Justin said, “better let me help you.”

“No, thank you,” she said politely. “I do it.”

“But, the chair might tip over, and all your breakfast will spill,” said Justin, grabbing hold of the high chair.

Ellie pushed him away. “No! I wanna do it.”

Ellie ignored her brother’s warning and continued to push and pull her high chair across the room.

Justin sat down to eat his cereal when suddenly, he heard a noise—clunk, clatter, sploosh! Justin turned and saw milk and cereal splattered all over the kitchen floor. And there was Ellie, sitting right in the middle of it.

“Owwyy!” she hollered.

“Not again,” Justin moaned.

“What happened?” asked Mom, entering the kitchen.

“The chair spilled my bweakfast,” Ellie cried.

“I warned her not to push it,” Justin explained.

“Ellie,” said Mom sternly, “you need to listen to your brother.”

Mom picked Ellie up and took her to the sink where she grabbed a washcloth to clean up her daughter.

Justin soaked up the milk mess on the floor with paper towels. He scooted the high chair to the table then sat down to finish eating his now-soggy cereal.

All day long, it seemed Ellie was determined to do things on her own. She didn’t want Justin’s help, and she especially didn’t like it when he warned her not to do something.

That afternoon, the two kids sat coloring. Ellie held a pink crayon in one hand and a purple crayon in the other and scribbled pink and purple marks on her paper.

“See, Jussin? Isn’t it pwetty?”

“Uh, sure, Ellie,” Justin replied. “I need the purple crayon, please.”

Justin held out his hand for the crayon. But Ellie frowned and shook her head.

“These are mine!” she said, clutching the two crayons.

Justin didn’t want to argue, so he took out his own set of markers. Ellie’s eyes grew big when she saw the beautiful, rainbow-colored marking pens. Justin was about to take out the purple marker to use on his picture, but he wasn’t quick enough.

Zip! Ellie’s hand shot out and grabbed hold of the purple marking pen.

“This is so pwetty,” she said, happily popping the lid off.

“Ellie, I need that.” Justin reached for the marker.

“No! No!” she said, flinging her hand around trying to keep Justin from taking the marker away.

“Be careful. You’ll get purple all over,” Justin warned.

“No! No!” Ellie whisked the marker back and forth, keeping it away from her brother.

However, she didn’t know that each time she did, she drew a purple mark on her face! Justin couldn’t help laughing when he saw Ellie’s face with purple scribbles all over it. Justin decided he had better stop her before she poked her eye.

“That’s it,” he said in his best dad-like voice.

He got up from the table and picked Ellie up.

“No! No!” she fussed, swishing the purple marker around like a sword.

Justin dodged the marker as Ellie waved it in his face. He carried Ellie to her room and plopped her down inside her crib.

“There. Now let me have my marker,” he said.

Mom walked into Ellie’s room and gasped, “Ellie! What’s all over your face?”

“She wouldn’t let me use the purple crayon,” explained Justin, “so I got out my markers. But she stole the purple one and won’t give it back.”

“My pupple marker!”

Ellie waved her purple “sword” around, accidently swiping her face again.

Mom took hold of Ellie’s hand.

“Oh, no you don’t. Give that to me, young lady.”

“I told her not to fling it around, but she wouldn’t listen. Now she’s all purple.” Justin giggled.

Mom smiled, too—just a little—because Ellie did look funny with purple smudges on her face.

“Well, since you won’t listen and keep getting in trouble, Ellie, you can stay in your bed and take a nap—after I wash your face.”

“No wash, Mommy! No nap, please!”

“Nope, it’s too late,” Mom said. “You wouldn’t listen.”

She scrubbed Ellie’s face with a wet washcloth then tucked her in to bed.

“Now when you wake up, promise me you will be a good girl and listen.”

“Okay, Mommy,” Ellie replied with a yawn. “I’ll listen. I promise.”

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