Makeup, Popcorn & Mayhem: My Toddler’s Audition for a Supervillain Role

You know what silence means in a house with a toddler?

Danger. Absolute, glitter-filled, butter-coated danger.

It was a regular Tuesday morning. I was working from home, feeling vaguely in control of life. My child, Kiku, was unusually quiet — which, in toddler language, means she was either:

1. Sleeping (unlikely),

2. Pooping (possible),

3. Plotting a domestic revolution (bingo).

I was mid-Zoom call, pitching something Very Important to my boss, nodding like a competent adult. Meanwhile, in another corner of the house… Kiku was channeling her inner Bollywood villain meets YouTube beauty influencer.

Scene 1: The Great Makeup Massacre

She had discovered my makeup drawer.

Not just opened it. Oh no. She had claimed it like a dragon claims gold.

When I walked in, my dresser looked like Sephora exploded and died.

• Foundation on the mirror.

• Lipstick on the curtains.

• Mascara wand... in her hair.

• My favorite red lipstick? Used as tribal war paint across her cheeks, the walls, and my brand new kurta.

  
  

She stood there, covered in highlighter and confidence, looked me dead in the eye and said:

“I look like you, mama.”

And I — a grown woman with a full-time job and a college degree — said:

“Yes… yes, you do.”

Scene 2: The Popcorn Caper

But wait, there’s more.

Just when I was cleaning up the mini makeup apocalypse, I smelled something… buttery.

I walked into the kitchen to find:

• A chair dragged to the counter.

• Scissors (!!!!) on the floor.

• A microwave buzzing ominously.

She had taken a packet of Act 2 popcorn from the shelf, cut it open, put it in the microwave, and popped it. Alone.

She's 3.

I’m pretty sure she was 10 minutes away from starting a home catering business.

And where was I? Still on Zoom.

I unmuted just in time to say, “Yes, I agree with those KPIs,” while internally screaming MY TODDLER IS A FIRE HAZARD.

Final Scene: Emotional Damage

After I confiscated the scissors, makeup, and toddler-sized confidence, she burst into tears. And I — exhausted, panicked, slightly buttery — did too.

Because:

• I was proud.

• I was horrified.

• I was laughing while crying.

• And I desperately wanted popcorn.

Moral of the Story?

Never underestimate the multitasking abilities of a toddler. Especially if you're on mute.

So here I am — makeupless, mildly traumatized, and still finding glitter in weird places — sharing this with the world.

To all the moms out there, if your toddler hasn’t microwaved something questionable yet, just wait.And maybe hide the scissors.

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