Everyday I put Paige's hair in pigtails. We have a little routine where she sits on the edge of my bathroom countertop with her feet in the sink facing the mirror. I stand behind her and she watches me through the mirror while playing with the makeup/bottles/toothbrushes that are out on the counter.
Paige and I had the following exchange while I styled her hair today:
Me: Paige, please stop. (I was refering to her rubbing a comb in bar soap and then smearing the comb across the mirror)
Paige: (doesn't stop)
Me: I told you to stop and you didn't, now I have to take it away (I remove the soap dish from the counter and take the comb out of her hand). You need to listen to Mommy.
Paige: (leans forward stretching out her arms, trying to reach the mirror so she can smear the soap with her hands)
Me: (much more firmly than before while holding her arms down at her side) Paige! STOP! Sit still!
Paige: (while glaring at my reflection in the mirror) Briiiiidget! Knock. It. Off. Time out!
Me: Oh, don't talk to me like that; and my name is Mommy. Who needs time out? You?
Me: Then who? Me?
Paige: (still glaring) Yes. Mama. Trouble. Trouuuuuuble.