Spark Plug is a pack-rat at the ripe old age of almost 4. There is stuff everywhere in her room and anywhere she collects her trinkets. She places her special pieces in their rightful spot. She knows exactly where everything is and belongs. And she even has her footwear ordered according to function.

She has photos lining her bedside table, along with her toothbrush which she refuses to keep among the others in the bathroom that belong to the rest of us plebes. She has flowers, fresh and fake, a self-decorated hand-held mirror, art work, and a piggy bank. There is a table cloth under it all to make it look authentic. A baby blanket is the surface on which all of these treasures rest.

She has her hot pink Tender Tootsies beside her bed. She also has her slippers that make noise for when she is feeling fancy. She then has her pair of 'nighttime slippers' which are Tinkerbell foot covers she got for Christmas and she puts them on as she tucks into bed each night. Downstairs she has her snow boots, of course. And her running shoes for the gymnasium at the Y. But also- her sparkly flip flops. She keeps these in her swim bag for the Y to wear to and from the pool.

This kid cracks me up. She knows exactly where and how she wants everything. She thinks about and executes her plans. She goes through my MIL's place and takes whatever she is allowed to take. After our last visit, Spark Plug came home with a giant plastic bag full of necklaces, framed photos, stuffed animals to add to the already enormous zoo along the side of her bed, toy bird feeder, Tinkerbell plastic cup and plate, and on and on. And it all gets placed.

I don't even bother tidying her bedside table. There's no point. She would just put everything back where it was before. She fiddles with it so much, I doubt there would be any dust collecting on it.

When I accidentally forget to hide the art work at the bottom of the recycling bin, she throws a fit and takes it out again. I apologize, claim my ignorance, and slyly wait for her to forget about it again, snatch it up and bury it for good. If I didn't recycle anything or occasionally pitch out the broken jewellery, we wouldn't be able to move in here.

I can't even imagine what this is going to mature into.

Yes, I can. A fussy, anal, picky, pack-rat who will have every surface covered. With her Jimmy Choos and clothing arranged by colour, function, and season.

All's I'm sayin's all.