They say if you plant potatoes, you grow potatoes. So, I guess I wasn’t quite sure why I was surprised to have a total drama queen of a daughter. I’ve always loved acting, but this little girl of mine is producing some Daytime Emmy-quality material.
Last night I was sitting on the couch and I hear her “I’m Hurt” scream. It’s only slightly different from her “I am Pretending to be Hurt to Get my Brother in Trouble” scream and it’s a near cousin to the “I am Displeased with the Current State of Affairs in the Playroom”. It’s never to be confused with the “Silence is Golden but Shouting is Fun” scream. I hear that the most because Aili has no control over the volume of her voice. She honestly is a miniature Will Farrell character.
I could hear her running to me so I figured her injuries weren’t too severe, but I braced myself for another bloody nose or a missing tooth.
“MY LEG!” bellowed a panic-stricken Aili.
Did she break it? Oh no. There was a little scrape on her ankle where she rubbed the first layer of skin. It wasn’t bleeding, but It probably didn’t feel amazing.
I pulled her on my lap to comfort her and she gasped.
“Mama! My toe! Oh, it looks really bad! It’s bleeding!” Aili was hyperventilating.
How could I miss a gory, mangled toe?! Oh. I didn’t. On her forth toe on her left foot, there was a quarter inch scratch that produced a tiny, pinhead of blood.
“I’ll get you a bandage,” I said, trying not to roll my eyes too much as I got up.
“Mama,” she whimpered from the couch as if these were her dying words. “Make sure it’s got Tinkerbell on it.”