Sometimes parenting schemes backfire. Such is the case with naughty foot. It all started about a year ago when I was trying to get Ruby dressed one day. She was not wanting to put her clothes on, and was thrashing and crashing about, making it impossible for me to get her pants on her. She told me that her foot was being naughty and wouldn’t go in the pants. I asked her which foot was naughty and which one was being good. She showed me the naughty one, so I said “Let’s get good foot into the pants,” and it totally worked. With one leg in, it was much easier to get the other one in, and so naughty foot was born.
From then on, naughty foot constantly refused to go into pants, shoes, socks, and boots. Good foot, however, was always very helpful and would put on anything I asked it to. This seemed to be going well, until I was introduced to naughty hand.
Naughty hand was very similar to naughty foot, refusing to enter shirts, coats, jackets and sweaters. This was perfectly annoying on its own, but sometimes naughty hand and naughty foot would team up to fight the forces of Dad, and then there would be problems. At least I always had good hand and good foot to help me. Such was not the case with naughty head.
Naughty head has no good counterpart. Naughty head is pure naughtiness and does not enjoy going into shirts and jammies. Naughty head enjoys whipping back and forth and often crashing into Dad head. Naughty head gets in trouble a lot.
I think my initial problem was underestimating the creativity and mischievousness of my daughter. Do I regret creating naughty foot? I feel bad saying that I do, because naughty foot and I had some good times together. I think where I went wrong was creating a creature using my DNA, because this whole story sounds like something I would totally do to my parents. So I guess I’m actually okay with naughty foot; I just feel bad for my wife.