Yesterday we had a glorious rainstorm. It rained steadily for hours, something we haven't seen here in months.
At one point the lightening and thunder picked up for a while, though it was never all that close.
About this time, Lauryn (the 3 yo) came over to me crying.
Me: "What's wrong?"
L: "I wish my Daddy were home!"
Me: "Why?"
L: "'Cause I scared."
I scooped her up (no small feat right now with this appendage sticking out front) and carried her over to the sofa, while she sobs on my shoulder.
Me: "Are you scared because of the rain?"
L: "No, the tunderstorm." (misspelling intended)
So I cuddled her for a minute. Then Aubrey (the 9 yo) comes over and sits on the sofa beside us. Kora (11 yo) and Aubrey like to pretend they are Lauryn's mother and father (please don't ask, I'm not sure why). So Aubrey pipes in.
A: "Lauryn, do you want me to pretend I'm your daddy?"
Lauryn jumps out of my lap with a big smile on her face and scrambles up into Aubrey's lap.
L: "Ok, now I pretend that I'm scared. WAAAA! WAAAA!" And she breaks into the biggest, fake baby cry I've ever heard.
Needless to say, I quit feeling sorry for her pretty quickly.
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