Monday, January 13, 2014


Jessica came over on Sunday.  We chatted while the kids wandered around.

Lilly's cousin was playing with some clay.  She was enjoying the clay very much.

I don't know what happened next, but I heard Jessica say something like, "Lilly, give the clay back."

Lilly came over to me and hid her face on my lap.

Until Jessica left the room.

And then Lilly whispers, with a brave but quivering chin, "I never get to play with a ball of clay."

"Oh, Lilly," I said, "we have plenty of clay that you can play with all the time."

Lilly continues on as if I haven't spoken.  As if she is lost in her own world of pain and heartbreak.

"And nobody is ever going to believe me."

She shakes her head slowly.

"And nobody is ever going to love me."

I wonder if all three-year-olds have such moderate and reasonable reactions to being thwarted in even the most mild of ways.


  1. Do you ever worry about how terrifyingly good she would be at testifying against you in court? i'm not saying she would...I'm just saying she could.

  2. Margaret, oddly enough, I have thought of that. She has a much more vivid . . . "imagination" than the boys had. Some times she says things, like that Chris pooped his pants, and she has me halfway convinced that, pardon the pun, some shit has gone down.