She has learned secret weapon #1 of a woman. Resort to crying when all else fails.
If her brothers are mean to her, she will now seek me out, to cry on my shoulder. I can hear the sobs from rooms away, the drama getting louder, the closer she gets. She should, quite frankly, be up for an Oscar this year.
She'll see me and the crocodile tears will be squeezed out of her big, beautiful eyes with more urgency. She'll squint and grit her teeth so hard, trying to squeak out every ounce of liquid she can.
I just want to burst out laughing.
Just the other day, I was once again a spectator to one of her performances.
"Mamaaaaaaaa, my boys are being mean to me!" She whined.
I picked her up and placed her on the kitchen counter, "Awwww, what did they do?" I asked, trying to look sympathetic as I bite my lower lip.
She grabbed me around the neck and hugged me. "They won't let me play Wii!"
Oh the nerve!
"Well, honey, they were playing first. I am sure they will give you a turn," I replied, as I pushed her hair off of her wet face. I gave her a kiss on the nose and she smiled.
Mr. Schmitty walked behind me and asked what happened. I turned slightly and began to fill him in on the current spectacle.
Then suddenly I felt it. It was an excruciating pain. It was like none I had ever felt before. I spun around and clung to Mr. Schmitty so I didn't fall to the floor in agony. My mouth was wide open but no sound was escaping. My eyes teared up and I didn't know whether to cry or laugh uncontrollably.
You see, as I was talking to my husband, R. decided to
It seems as though my daughter still needs to resort to violence if she doesn't have your undivided attention!