... yes, to tell a story about my daughter. The three-year-old. The one who's always so confident in her actions and her decisions. After today's incident, I now know it's all an act.
Subtitle: Don't try to nap with a 3-year-old around.
So I closed my eyes for ten minutes. Really. No longer. And then I started to get suspicious as my 6-year-old was right there with me listening to The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, but the 3-year-old princess was nowhere to be found.
I headed out of the bedroom door, and there she is. In my office. Where she knows she shouldn't be. I head over. She's on the floor with twenty pairs of scissors scattered about. (Yes, I have the Michael's craft store scissor collection). There are index cards in shreds (no problem). And then there's my life-long favorite stuffed animal from 30 years ago (remember Gagloo Greenplatt, Mom and Dad?) on the floor next to her with his tag cut off.
"Sweetie, what did you do to Gagloo?" I ask.
She smiles. "I cut his tag off."
"Why did you do that?" I ask.
"Because he wanted me to," she says, still smiling.
I pick up Gagloo and hold him. Put on my sad look. "Sweetie, he's so sad and I'm so sad you did that," I said.
And then she crumples. Like a saltine cracker.
She starts sobbing uncontrollably and telling me how sorry she is. Sobbing. Heartbreakingly so.
So I picked her up and held her, and told her it was OK.
And then we get out the needle and thread and I sew his tag on Frankenstein style.
But now I know. Her confident "I did what I did, and that's why I did it" thing is all an act.