Kids go through phases, this I know. JoJo sang Adele’s power ballad Someone Like You for weeks when she was 3, Spike ate phone chargers while they were plugged in for an alarming number of months during her second year, and Sloppy Joan has been inconsolable from 5pm-6pm every evening since she was 2 months old. But the thing about phases is they pass and a new, even weirder one, comes along. JoJo, it would seem, has moved into her Post-Impressionism period phase. Since summer, homegirl is putting labels on everything.
Some are very literal and make me feel like I woke up in a home for Early Onset Alzheimer’s. For example these handy signs indicating this is the
and this is where I should
But the obvious soon became too ordinary, so she moved on to creating signs where events would soon take place. Such as the front room where we would apparently be hosting a Kung Fu exhibition.
But my favorite has to be this one she so proudly put on the front door. Come one, come all to our creepy children’s Pajama Party. The sign is up all yearlong, folks, so if your favorite jammies aren’t back from the cleaner’s, don’t worry … we’ll be here waiting whenever you’re ready. Not sure it puts out the vibe we were hoping for.
She’s hung RSVPs on the front door with 2 crayons hanging down where people could check “Yes” with a blue, or “No” with green. The door to her bedroom is like a caveman’s epic novel; with clear instructions on when people can come in, stay out and who lives within.
Of all her habits, at least this one is helpful for guests who can’t find our trash receptacles and uplifting for passersby who are feeling lonely and need to party. I say, leave your mark on my woodwork- I mean the world, JoJo. It’s a perfectly lovely phase that every type A, young and old, can celebrate.