DD1 woke up from a fairly good nap in a cranky mood. I hate referring to my children as cranky. But there’s no other way to describe it. She was just as foul as a three-year-old could be.
For nearly an hour, every little thing was just wrong. She burst into tears at every turn.
“What’s wrong, love?” I finally asked. “What do you want?”
“WAAAAHHHH,” she cried. “I want… I want Mommy Yogurt.” She was talking about the cup of peach yogurt in the fridge. It was the last one, and it was supposed to be mine. But this situation was dire. I would give up my cup of yogurt, if that’s what it took to get my daughter out of this terrible funk. It looked promising, until I handed her the cup.
“WAAAAAHHH,” she sobbed. “I want YOU to carry it to the table for me.”
I did. She sat down at the table.
“WAAAAAHHH,” she sobbed again. “I need you to bring me something for my tears!”
I brought her a kitchen towel.
“WAAAAAHHH,” she moaned. “I want a CLOTH for my tears!”
I gave her a washcloth. She dabbed her eyes, and then stared glumly at her yogurt. DD2 wandered in.
“WAAAAAHHH,” said DD1. “Leave my yogurt alone!” (Never mind that she hadn’t touched it yet. )
This continued for nearly forty-five minutes. It ended with DD2 sitting in the high chair, since that was the only way to keep her from climbing on the kitchen table. DD1 had eaten all the yogurt off the top, leaving the fruity part on the bottom. She is used to blended kid yogurt, and hasn’t figured out that the fruit is actually the good part.
“WAAAAAHHH,” she wailed again, when I took the cup from her. I thought she was finished, but – like everything for DD1 this afternoon – that was just wrong. I set the cup back in front of her.
Not wanting anyone to take what was rightfully hers, DD1 spitefully took a bite of the syrupy fruit. Her eyes widened. Then, a miracle happened. The clouds lifted from her little face, the fog lifted, and she smiled a giant dairy smile.
“Mmmm! This is great!” she exclaimed. “I’m happy again!”
I’m on my way to the store to stock up on peach yogurt, just as soon as I hit “Post”.