Things that have caused my daughter to burst into tears in the past few days:
- If we get a bounce house for her birthday party, all the party guests might want to use jump in it at the same time and there won’t be any room for her.
- What if, when we get to the toy store, they don’t have the Barbie she wants and she can’t find anything else in the hundreds of thousands of items they have in stock that could make her happy?
- In a fit of artistic glee, she traced around her “Fresh Beat Band” poster in her room with a blue marker, staining the paint. Now we can never make the wall pink again, ever. (Admittedly, I don’t want her coloring on the wall, but the fact that we still have a half-gallon of pink paint in the living room closet just barely calmed her down.)
- She knocked down one of the pushpins holding a corner of her “Tangled” poster and couldn’t bear the thought of waiting until morning to fix it.
- The weekend is still three days away.
- Robbie always wakes up earlier than her and gets first pick of what we watch on TV.
- She accidentally drew a line across a wall in a maze in one of her coloring books, and there’s just no way to recover from that.
- And 52 “what-if” scenarios that require many leaps of preschooler logic to follow.
However, knowing that I used to tell jokes and then cry when people laughed at them, I understand that she comes by this honestly.
So I guess what I’m saying is, I owe my mother a drink. Or a hundred.