Mischief or Curiosity?

Little Cecily's toddlerhood could be defined in one word, "mischief". I've truly learned my lesson that any time there is silence from her that I will, not most likely, but surely find her in some sort mischief. And sadly, this is also relevant for silence while in the same room together, silence five feet away from me, and silence right next to me. I'm positive that by the time she turns three I will have been conditioned to never turn my back away from her. 

Just since 4 o'clock today we've had poop on the floor (and all over her), my knitting yarn tangled and her tangled in it (this was three feet away from me), and a toy ripped open with her teeth to reveal little plastic beads everywhere that had the unfortunate likeness of Nerd candy (and this was right next to me while she, Oliver, and I were talking about a primary song). Of course there was brushing her teeth with candy in her mouth and dipping garlic bread into her applesauce only to waste both, but that's just normal kid stuff - right? 

The one place she can't find mischief (knocks on wood*) . . .