So if you’re friends with me on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram, I guarantee you’ve seen pictures and posts about my sweet, precious, and innocent youngest daughter. (You’ve “LIKED” those pictures, right? RIGHT?? 😉 ) Meda Grayson is almost two years old and a bundle of sweet joy. Her spunky personality keeps us on our toes and makes us laugh. She’s our good-natured, soft-hearted, little Meda Pita.
If you’re friends with me on any of those social media outlets, you’ve also probably read that Bryant and I have dubbed that sweet, precious, and innocent little girl with a “sweet, precious, and innocent” nickname.
Meet The Honey Badger…
Other nicknames include the following:
- Honey Badge
I’m sure you’ve seen the rather crude, but hilariously funny (because I can’t NOT laugh at dumb stuff) YouTube video “The Crazy Nasty Honey Badger.”
While this video is stupidly hysterical (and pretty accurate in describing our youngest with quotes like “honey badger don’t care.”), it’s actually NOT the documentary that clued us in to this perfect nickname for sweet Meda Pita…
Bryant & I
are nerds enjoy enriching our minds with mind-numbing enlightening documentaries via Netflix. One night, we clicked on the title, “Honey Badgers; Masters of Mayhem,” and proceeded to watch the entire film.
Dumbfounded, we sat watching the antics of these crazy little beasts. They are animals with attitude. The documentary called them among the bravest in the African brush. They also said they were probably the smartest.
I’m not so sure on that last part. I mean, these guys would fight lions… on purpose.
Doesn’t sound too smart to me.
Anyway, I believe it was the point when the honey badger climbed into a refrigerator and began swiping food out onto the ground that Bryant and I looked at each other and said, “It’s Meda.”
Yes – Meda Pita is the Honey Badger.
So why has she been dubbed the HB?
I’m glad you asked.
I could tell you about how Meda once ripped hardware right out of a splintered door frame (sorry mom!)…
Or I could mention when she ate directly out of the trash can…
Or I could even talk about time her older sister screamed, “Mom! Meda’s trying to set me on fire!”
Any of those scenarios could work in accurately describing our little honey badger.
But I’m going to tell you about the most recent endeavor of the Badge’s. (Okay, it’s not the most recent. That would be last week’s coffee incident involving my expensive handbag. But I’m not ready to talk about that just yet.)
I’m going to tell you about this:
It was last Monday. I remember what day it was because I was vacuuming. (Come back to see my post next week on my practical (sounding) cleaning schedule).
As I vacuumed the plethora of crackers, dog hair, jelly beans, and stickers that were ground into my living room carpet, Meda was playing nicely, pushing a toy stroller around the house.
It was only a few moments that she was out of my sight.
But that’s all it takes.
I turned off the vacuum and heard a little voice gleefully singing, “Weeeeee! Weeeeee! Weeee….”
That third “Weeeee!” was interrupted by a loud clang.
As I rushed into the dining room, I didn’t hear any crying, but instead,
(Little kids are the darnedest things, aren’t they? Not even two years old, and she knew she had screwed up. *shakes head*)
Sure enough, as I entered the dining room, the light fixture was hanging lower than usual and swinging precariously out of the ceiling like a pendulum.
The honey badger was standing on the dining room table, guilty arms raised above her head and looking at me over her “O” shaped mouth. Without another sound, the little scoundrel scurried down onto a chair and then onto the ground, where she took off at a 22 month old sprint away from me.
Because that’s what honey badgers do.
They leave mayhem in their wake.
And their moms to clean up after them.
(Okay – that was a lie. I don’t know if honey badger mothers actually clean up after their young. And I know I definitely didn’t clean up her mess. The fixture is still broken. We’re not what you might call “go-getters” around here…)
But seriously – this kid is a master of mayhem.
And we love her.
Despite the expensive things she has destroyed. Or the number of dirty diapers she has removed herself and spread everywhere.
She makes us laugh (when we’re not catching our breath from chasing her) and smile (when we’re not repairing something she’s damaged).
For you moms of other honey badgers (please, tell me I’m not the only badger parent!)…. I have no advice.
You’re on your own.
Just try to stay alive.
And I’ll do the same over here.