It is one of those evenings. Battles getting ready for dinner. Battles during dinner. Battles after dinner. Battles at bath time. I am tired. And testy. Very testy. Fire shooting out of my eyes in a valiant attempt at controlling my testiness testy.
Adana, in true 2-year old fashion, is completely oblivious to my agitation. After battling her into her diaper and jammies, I am still sitting on the floor, exhausted. She glides up to me, cups her dimpled little hand around her mouth, and leans in close to whisper in my ear:
"Mommy . . . popsicle?"
Glaring at her with that You've-Really-Pushed-Me-Over-The-Edge-This-Time look, I growl, "No, Adana. NO popsicles."
I expect her to cower a bit; back away; wander off to repent of her brazen request.
I do not expect her to smile sweetly, re-cup her dimpled little hand and, leaning even closer, whisper:
"Mommy . . . choc-o-late?"
Her eyes glitter in anticipation. My heart melts. I remember some Hersey Kisses in the pantry.
The evening is saved after all.
3 comments:
This is why God makes them so darn cute. So we don't strangle them.
Suck-ah! So if I look cute and bat my eyes, and say, "Mo-ney?", I too will be given some? Nice.
I am glad I am not the only one...sounds like our house!! Jacob has been asking me for more food after he ate a pretty good dinner...I just caved and told him he could have a piece of bread and butter...now the little monkey wants some too!!! AARRGGH!!! I was being strong...off I go to get Trevie a piece of bread with butter...they will go to bed right after they eat their bread!!!
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