Brat, stubborn, two-year-old's rules but still adorable

Amusing stories about a little brat named Danielle

We moved from KY back to Pittsburgh in December, 1996 when my niece Danielle was not quite two years old. My daughter Kerry was 11 and at first, she was delighted to have her little cousin stay at our house. But it didn’t take her long to discover that little ones can be a handful. She told me one day, in all seriousness, that she was NOT ready to have a baby. I was stunned. I was sure that 11 or12 was a great age to start a family.

Danielle often stayed with us for five or six days in a row and right from the start she decided that she loved Kerry, but she did NOT like me. She wanted us to follow her little two-year-old rules. Kerry should do everything for her, and I wasn’t supposed to touch her or go near her. I wanted to put her shoes on and I got “NO! Kerry do it.”Whatever it was, putting her coat on, changing her diaper, giving her a bath, or helping her get dressed, Danielle insisted, “Kerry do it.” Kerry quickly became overwhelmed and I grew quite frustrated. It wasn’t all that much fun .
One time Danielle was all bundled up and in her carseat in the van. She could barely move and I sat down next to her.
For no apparent reason she squinted her eyes and said in her little evil voice, “I don’t WANT you to sit next to me and I don’t NEED you to sit next to me.”
Well, of course I didn’t move. That’s when she threatened me.
“If you sit next to me, I’m going to take all the clips out of my hair!”
OHHH NOOOOO!!! Not the clips removal punishment!!!! Sure enough she pulled every single clip out of her hair. I sat there chuckling to myself. It was a HARSH PUNISHMENT indeed. Then she told me, "I won't play with you. I want to play by myself and with Justin." (Justin is her brother who's five years older than she.)

Another time I took her to the library and read many books to her. We stayed nearly two hours and then I took her to McDonald’s and bought her a Happy Meal. After our meal, she played in the playland. We stayed longer than anybody. Many children would come and go, but I let Danielle play for an eternity. Eventually, it was time to go, and I gave her the five minute warning, then a three minute, then one minute warning.“Ok it’s time to go home,” I said, but she ran the other way. “Do you want to come with me or do I have to pick you up?” She wasn’t about to leave willingly, so I picked her up and carried her to the car and buckled her in her carseat. That’s when she yelled, “I’m going to tell Grandma what you did.”
“Oh,” I said calmly.

“ARE YOU GOING TO TELL HER THAT I READ YOU LOTS OF BOOKS AND TOOK YOU TO MCDONALD’S AND BOUGHT YOU A HAPPY MEAL, AND THEN LET YOU PLAY AND PLAY IN THE PLAYLAND FOR A LONG TIME?

”NO!!!!," she said immediately. "I'M GOING TO TELL GRANDMA WHAT YOU DID TO ME!!!!!”

This ought be good. We drove home in silence. I had no idea what to expect. What would this little brat say?
True to her word, as soon as we got to the house, Danielle darted off to find Grandma, running with her little pigeon-toed, wobbly steps. I followed her with great curiosity.
“Grandma! Amy HIT ME AND STUFF!!!!”
What a little brat! What a little LIAR!!!!!!!