A few days ago, H and C were in the back row of the mom-mobile with their little bro, when they began to discuss who and what they loved. The list went on and on (in no particular order):
- Grammie
- Grampy
- Opa
- Oma
- Tante Beate
- Onkel Axel
- Auntie
- Uncle Larry
- Kellie
- Mu-kel
- Ellen
- Stevie
- Kaitlin
- Janice
- Brother
- Mrs. Cindy
- Ms. Erica
- Dolly
- Elmo
- Tinkerbell
- Dora
- Strawberry Shortcake
- Ribbit (Kermit)
- Doggie (Clifford)
- Playdoh
- Crayons
- Puzzles
Well, you get the point. Suddenly, the back row became extremely quiet. H said, "I love Mama." C looked at her and said, "I love Papa." At a stop light, I looked into the rear view mirror to see H wrinkle up her nose and say, "No, (shaking head) I love Mama. Not Papa." C now followed suit and said, "Well I love Papa," again wrinkling the nose and shaking the head, "I don't love Mama."
What? Wait? What did she just say? Did I not have the worst pain in my entire life and the worst experience of my life having this child, and she does not love me? I am lower than Playdoh?
Where is the love?
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