Lucy the Great

Attitude. Ah yes, 'tude raises its ugly head. You may think that I am speaking of my older daughter, and while it's true that she's beginning to display some "tweenishness," I'm actually referring to the younger daughter.

Not long ago, on a sick-day, we had a few memorable exchanges. I'd spent the morning running around fetching things for the poor invalid lying on the couch, when finally, after she'd delivered another imperious command for her drink, I asked her, "How old are you anyway?"

"6" she replied.

"Really?" I asked her, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she said. "Now where's my drink?"

The little wretch did everything but snap her little fingers at me; I swear, the kid is a like a Catherine the Great in miniature. Just as she finished slurping her milk through three curly straws, she threw off the covers, stalked to the kitchen to put the empty glass in the sink, when she said, "Hungry! I'm hungry!"

She stood in the middle of the kitchen, arms crossed, tiny foot tapping, shimmying her shoulders slightly, giving me that, "Oh yeah, whatchoo-gonna-do-about-it, Lady" look. I stared her down with "the Look," known to moms and dads everywhere. She broke eye contact, giggled, and then with a sweeping gesture, pirouetted and frolicked. Yes, frolicked.

Amazed, I watched her dance around the kitchen before I snapped, "For a sick little girl, you sure aren't acting very sick! You are never staying home from school again!"

She stopped short, gave me a stricken look and promptly burst into tears before running back to the living room to hide under blankets on the couch. Way to go, Mommy.

*sigh*

I'm not sure I'll be able to stay sane once the two girls hit their teens. That remote convent in the Swiss Alps is looking better all the time.