Sasha: Sitting at her craft table, doing her homework.
Maya: Trying to climb up to stand on Sasha's chair and grab her crayons.
A bad scene, to be sure. Sasha can't get her homework done from the pushing and the stealing of her tools and the potential for the grabby hands what grab the grabbable sheets of homework to rip a page. Maya headed for certain doom. Either she would tip the chair over and crack her skull, or she would poke her eye out with a pencil. Attempts to remove or distract her met with whole-body paroxysms of outrage.
Would you believe it took me an hour to find the obvious solution here? (Take a blank sheet of paper and a few crayons and introduce Maya to coloring.) Of course, this introduces the new danger of Maya... coloring. Whenever and wherever the mood may strike her.
I better find a higher place to keep the crayons.
My kitchen is: Really very nice, if way overstocked with varieties of beer we do not drink. Why is my house always cleaner AFTER a party than it was BEFORE?
For a class project, Sasha needed to cut out a photo of what she wants to be when she grow up. She wants to be: The President.
She was outraged, however, to discover that she could not cut out a picture of a GIRL who was the president, because there have been none. So... we cut out a picture of George W. Bush, and she's drawing long hair on the sucker.
This gives me joy on so many, many levels.