Well, material for a blog entry has presented itself much sooner than I expected. I’m not sure why it surprised me—I do live with H.
Today, her daddy and I have decided that she must somehow be part elf, maybe a distant relative of Buddy.
As I was working on school plans, the youngest L came to inform me that H was, and I quote, “drinking syrup”. I decided to defer the matter to JRR, who went to talk to her. He emerged from her room with an empty bottle of chocolate syrup (which had been over half full). L’s eyes widened at that sight, and I immediately knew it was not chocolate syrup that he’d meant. I asked, “Were you talking about pancake syrup?” He nodded.
It seems that after polishing off the chocolate syrup, she moved on to the maple, but had her plans foiled by the little brother. She only managed about an inch of the latter.
After receiving news of the consequence (no going to spend the Christmas gift cards tonight as planned) and moping around the house with an exaggerated frown, she delivered this note to me:

I hope you can read the note, but just in case, it says: Dear Mom, I am sorry I drank the syrup. I am Really Really Really Really sorry. The face in the bottom corner is crying.
Life is never dull, and sometimes it's just downright funny. And, for the record, this incident does not exactly shock her seasoned parents; after all, she ate an entire 12 oz. bag of milk chocolate chips last week.
How can I be angry? At least she is sticking to one of the four basic food groups: candy, candy canes, candy corns, and syrup.