Mother May I tiptoe upstairs by myself and occupy myself quietly and mischievously?

No.

Mother May I silently sneak into your bathroom?

No.

Mother May I climb on your boudoir seat and risk falling and breaking my little body in its entirety?

No.

Mother May I rummage through your delicate glass perfume bottles?

No.

Mother May I help myself to an obscene amount of your lotion?

No.

Mother May I cover the length of your bathroom counter with the copious amount of lotion I squeezed out?

No.

Mother May I glob lotion on your touch-light makeup mirror even though it’s plugged in?

No.

Mother May I not say a peep to you about this disaster and let you stumble upon it by surprise?

No.

Mother May I sit on the “simmer down” seat for a good long while and reflect on every malfunction of my toddler decision making mechanism?

YES!

{If only my darling knew the rules of Mother May I, our day would have been so much duller}

*As per bottle charming was not part of our experience and peony is not beautiful and feminine slathered on counters.