The Foorce

For the full effect, you should imagine this conversation happening while my 3 year old rides around the house on her big wheels wearing her new helmet and 3D movie glasses, singing “Tomorrow” at the top of her lungs.

James is in italics, I am in bold.

Owwwwww! (Crying coming from James’s room)

What’s up, bud?

Adam bit me! (Holding finger)

That’s quite a bite mark, James. Why was your finger in Adam’s mouth?

I don’t know. It hurts!

Adam, say sorry to James for biting him. No biting!!

Adam: Sorry James! (Big smile) No biting.

I really hope Dad comes home soon. (starts crying again)

What, why?

I don’t know.

Well he’s working late again – what’s up?

Nothing. I just really miss him. I love that guy.

Okay, James, that’s very nice but you know he works late all the time. Why are you so upset?

Because Adam bit my finger and it hurts!

Adam: Sorry James! (Runs over and hits James)

Adam, say sorry! no hitting! Get out of here (hustle Adam out to the biking extravaganza in the next room).

He hit me!

I know.

And Margaret needs her scooter to be fixed!

Don’t worry, Dad will do that when he gets home (he has actually dismantled it since a little accident earlier in the week, pending arrival of aforementioned helmet). Okay well let’s get our teeth brushed so we can read before bed.

But my finger hurts.

I know, just humor me. Hey, guess what? We can read “Night Ride” in the Black Stallion book tonight!

(Stops crying, says in a normal voice). Let’s do this!