Right now, I’m sitting here listening to my girls play with their Barbies, but I’m “NOT ALLOWED” to listen! Most of the time when they play, they want P and I out of the room. They don’t want us listening to them play. I guess it’s embarrassing when we start cracking up at their high pitch “play” voices. I love hearing them play. I love hearing them giggle.
What I don’t like are the blood curdling, high pitch screams!
The other day, I was downstairs cooking dinner and I hear my youngest scream, “MOM!”. Now, I have heard many screams come from my girls. I have the tones, of all the screams, figured out. There is the “I slammed some sort of body part and it hurts really bad” scream. There is the “Mom, you better come right now, because someone is ‘gushing’ blood’ scream.” (My youngest uses the “gushing” term a lot…mostly when it’s NOT gushing!)
This scream was “there is a GINORMOUS (the size of pea) bug in some vicinity to my child” scream.
I didn’t go running.
I went to the bottom of the stairs and called up, “What’s the matter?” I see her face come around the corner from her room and she says, and I quote, “I need you to come up here and be ‘super-mom bug killer’.” Me, without cracking a smile, said with a purposeful childlike whine, “I don’t want to be ‘super-mom bug killer’ today.” She looks at me with such disappointment, and starts coming down the stairs and says in passing, under her breath, “Fine, then I’m getting ‘SuperDad’!”