Friday, September 5, 2008
Crayons in the Crack
It went like this: "Oh no! MOMMY!" I came sprinting to the aid of my sick couch-ridden six year old occupying her time in front of the TV with a cookie-sheet desk, paper, and crayons in a cup, expecting to see something had been expelled from her stomach and made a mess on my sofa. Breathlessly I said, "What's wrong?" (pant, pant). She just pointed. To the cup. Of crayons. It tipped over. She said, "There's crayons in the crack." She was obviously incapacitated and had no way of reaching that far, all the way to the space four inches from her hand, to the abyss that is the couch cushions to fetch the crayons herself. I thought inwardly, "This is what she pulled me away from motherly duties for?" (OK, so I was just reading somebody's blog at that moment.) But outwardly I was all love and comfort and I'll get your crayons for you and here's some juice, baby. Kiss on the forehead. All's right with the world.
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4 comments:
Wow, Beth. Does she ever have you wrapped around her little toe! Seriously, that is so funny--I 'bout fell off my chair laughing. You're so doting compared to me. I would've said, "Sheesh, kid--did you break your hand!!?" I love your blog!!
Hehehe, that's awesome.
Gr/Gr: Lily's so lucky to have such an attentive Mom.
Gr/Gr (p.s.): What a "crack-up!"
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