Friday, June 20, 2014

The Dramatic Narrator

HOO boy, I have another drama narrator. Kat had cereal for lunch, so I told her she couldn't have more. At that moment, I was trying to figure out how to give them ice cream without having to get out bowls and spoons, so I just told her 'no.'

She ran crying to the bedroom, where I heard, "My mommy won't pick me up! She never... [inaudible]." I couldn't understand most of it, but I got the gist that she was narrating her misery in between sobs (Lilly didn't start this until she was about 5 as far as I remember, but she still does it whenever sent to the playroom to chill or to bed early).

Kat randomly screamed, "Mommy!" and I'd call back to her and tell her she could come to me, but I was busy (with ice cream surprise!).

She finally finishes up and comes out. I asked her if she was done, and she said, "Yeah. What's that? Birthday cake?" (she meant birthday hats -- I'd fashioned coated paper plates into paper ice cream cones by cutting them in half and folding them). I asked her if it looked like birthday cake and then suggested she meant hats. She agreed and stuck one on her head.

I needed to take my scissors and tape back to their spot on my desk, and when I left, immediately the cries started again. I said I'd be right back, so what did she cry?

"My mommy can't come right back!" Over and over for the 30 seconds it took me to walk to the desk in the living room and back to the kitchen. Hyperbole and drama from the toddler who started rolling her eyes at 10 months. I'm not shocked.

She and her sisters are now enjoying their ice cream. Why is there no happy narrating? "My mommy made me ice cream!" would be a nice change from "My mommy never..."

She can certainly cheese it up when she wants.

She's lucky she's so darned cute. And so am I.