Honeybadgers Do Have Brains

For three years now we've watched in amazement as Honeybadger has  relentlessly climbed, pestered, hissed, ran, hidden, screeched, hit and pinched. She's also successfully figured out how to  push every single one of her big sister's buttons.  I mean, it's one thing to just be a badger.  But apparently the reason badgers are called badgers is because they badger.  Well that makes sense. 

But what no one told us is that honeybadgers are actually pretty crafty creatures with a wealth of knowledge rolling around in their little rodent brain.  Sometimes Eliza gives me that look.  The one that says I hear what you're saying Mommy. I really do.  It all makes perfect sense.  I understand every single word.  It's just that I don't care.  And I sigh and shake my head and sometimes I muster a laugh because holy cow, you are one stubborn kid.

I mean what are you supposed to do with the kid who understands what the punishment will be but finds enough pleasure in the crime to forego the outcome? 

But for anyone raising their own honeybadger (which would roughly be anyone raising a second child between the ages of 1-3) I am letting you know there is hope.  Not that the mischief will stop and not that they will suddenly care. That ain't gonna change. Diaper changes will still suck and you will still have to hunt your little one down at bedtime.  They are most likely behind the couch or in the closet.  They will still hide from you and shriek in excitement as you scream the words It's bedtime...get out here NOW! They will laugh at your frustration because that's freaking hilarious. No, they will not come when it's time to walk out the door.  They will still scurry under the kitchen table hunched over like a rock cause you can't see hunched over rocks under the kitchen table.  No there is not hope that a time out will mean something.  They will stay in time out and swing and twirl and make the best of it.  No, a spank will not matter.  They will feel the burn and then throw you a giant smile just to show you how much control you lack.  No, there is no hope in those areas.  You might as well learn to laugh at the situation because that's all your honeybadger is doing anyway.

But the hope comes when your badger begins to ask you questions.  When out of the exhausted blue she says  Does your blood start in your eyes?  At first you think to yourself that your honeybadger is freaky.  She is.  They are a rather bizarre species.  But then you realize that amidst the constant naughtiness, there is still an innocent little brain trying to piece together the puzzle of life.  It's a weird place when innocence and badgering collide.  But it's a sweet sense of relief when you hear that sweet little voice pop out questions like...

Can the sun talk?

Can people break?

When I grow up and become an Eagle, will the helmet hurt my head?

Can monsters pee and poop?

Can possums talk?

Can we eat skunks?

Did God make the kitchen floor?

Do human and cumin rhyme?

Where is the suns family?

And they tell you things like...

I didn't see God when He made me.

When I get to heaven I want to have my head up, not down.

And you have conversations like...

Eliza: The lion will bite my hand and you will have to get me a new one.
Me:  Where do I buy a hand?
Eliza: At Target.  But you have to find my size.
Me: How do I know what size?
Eliza: Like this one! (holding up her other hand)

It's moments like these when you realize the gears actually are turning inside that furry little head.  That your little badger is actually thinking about things, even though her actions seem to lack any contemplation. That somewhere in between the absense of most things, there is knowledge. (Yes, you read that correctly)  There is hope.