Don’t Make Me

Me: “Time for tuck-in.”

Little Miss Thing, age 7: “You have to tell me a story.”

Me: “I don’t think we have time tonight, kiddo. It’s very late and…”

LMT: “YOU HAVE TO.”

Me: “Come on, now. I’m sure you can get to sleep without a story. It’s super late and we’ve had a big, big day. Extra snuggles and a squeeze for you. There we go. Nighty-night, Honey.”

(long pause)

LMT: “I’ll wake up Mom if I have to.”

(long pause)

Me: “How about three little pigs?”

Drawn Out

Little Miss Thing, age 7: “Daddy, I just drew a portrait of Mama from my notepad. Do you want me to draw you, too?”

Me: “Of course! That sounds delightful.”

(perches on couch, staring at me)

(pencil scratching noises)

LMT: “No, that’s no good. It doesn’t even look like you.”

(crumples paper, throws on floor)

(pencil scratching noises)

LMT: “Nope. I hate this one.”

(crumples paper, throws on floor)

(pencil scratching noises)

LMT: “Here you go! Looks just like you!”

(hands me drawing)

Me: “Awww, honey that’s perfect. It looks just like me.”

LMT: “You can have it. Hang it up wherever you want.”

Me: “Thanks.”

Drawn_Out