The Misrepresentation of Popeye

My daughter has turned into a cartoon.

For the last several weeks, every time Addison is mad, annoyed, tired, confused, hungry, thirsty, bored, or breathing, she makes this face. The first time I saw it, I said "she looks like Popeye, how cute." Now, the comparison has become a verb, as in "Addison, stop Popeye-facing me!"

In this photo, she is upset because I finally got a cabinet lock for the "dry goods" cabinet; I had tired of finding packets of oatmeal in my dresser drawers and boxes of pasta in my closet. You can see, however, that this does not create a shortage of toys for my little princess... there are 3 visible in this photo, which represents only about 4-5 square feet of space (I'm not counting the white item as a toy-- that is her potty, which she had relocated from the bathroom to the kitchen for a reason she refused to disclose.)

Cute as it was a few weeks ago, Popeye-face now makes me instantly fantasize about jumping through the nearest window and/or stabbing myself in the eye with a fork. I am hoping that it suffers a hasty demise, going the way of potato-face (her former "I'm going to cry" expression) and "the flying v" (her pre-walking habit of holding her feet up by her ears while in the stroller. In public.)