The plan was for you and me to go to Wal-Mart after supper to get big girl panties while dad stayed home and mowed the lawn and tidied the yard. For some reason, you were being extremely uncooperative, having taken off your diaper and refusing to put one back on. Not to mention the fact you hadn't even had pants on AT ALL today. You were cranky and started kicking Skye. I took your arm, asked you to look at me, then I told you very firmly that you do not hurt the puppy. You squirmed away from me, climbed onto the stool, hung your legs over the edge and started kicking the dog. I told you no - mommy was not going to play with you anymore. So I went upstairs.
Nana is much more patient with you than I am - especially after an awfully busy week at work. So she brought you upstairs. Kicking and screaming. I tried to ignore you while I read the Prairie Dog, but you sat right on the paper. Seeing that I was still annoyed, you stood beside me, started playing the piano and singing, "Mommeee, mom, mama, mommey, mom, mom, mom."
I asked, grinning, "Did you play that song for me?" Uh huh, you said and played it again to melt my icy heart. It worked.