“I want tea!” She beckoned to me.
She was holding a cup already full. With water. “What’s wrong with your water, baby?”
“I want tea!” She whined, dragging out the eee sound.
“But your cup already has water in it? Can you dri–“
“I want tea!” Whining more, cutting me off.
“Alright, already!” I huffed about, trying to locate my baby dude’s water cup, so that I might fill his cup with her water to oblige the Nagging Princess Extraordinaire™.
“Where’s the baby’s cup?”I asked, hoping for a smidgeon of help.
“I dunno,” she sing-songed back, spinning around like a dog chasing it’s tail. After a second or two of looking ridiculous instead of looking for the cup, she gave up her search.
Punk.
I turned the corner to look, even enlisted my husband’s help, all while my prima donna stood there, impatiently, giving me the you’d better hurry up and fetch me my tea eyes. Baby sister’s goin’ down with a fight if she didn’t cut it out.
I found one of his water cups – score! But it didn’t fit all her water. Crappity crap! OH WAIT! Look! There it is! And it fit the rest of her water. SUCCESS!
After 10 aggravating minutes, the tea was poured and served, and I went about my merry way, patting my self, virtually, on the back, for a job well done. The quest for tea was quenched (pun intended) and mom ruled the school once more.
It was sometime later, perhaps when refilling my own water glass, or something, that I noticed it. Her tea cup. On the counter. Full.
She. Never. Drank. It.
And you wonder why I’m looney tunes.
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