I was attempting to email Bruce, who was away on a business trip. As I sat typing, Megan appeared in the doorway. She was crying the fake cry she cries when she wants her way but does not want to burden herself with wiping away actual tears. "I WANT MOMMY! MOMMY HELP ME!" she was saying over and over.
She stood in the doorway of our porch/playroom/office. It's a sliding glass door with a single step down into what used to simply be a sunroom. She normally can navigate the step on her own but only when she's got a free hand. At the moment, her hands were both full with Little People - Farmer Jed in one hand; Maggie in the other.
I lifted her and placed her on the floor next to me. That was not good enough.
"I want sit Mommy lap!" Megan declared. And that is never good when I'm trying to type because Meg's only content with being on my lap while I type for so long before she's stealing the mouse and removing my hands from the keyboard. (For example, at the moment I began to compose this, the mouse was sitting atop the scanner just out of her reach for it's own saftey.
I sighed as I lifted her. Moments ago I had excitedly informed her that it was Sunday and that meant Church and that meant she'd be in the nursery with "Miss Sue." Meg is a recent 'stay without a fuss' convert. She smiled sweetly at me and told me, "No. I want Mommy." And that just wouldn't do since Mommy can not bring squirming toddler to the front of the church to read her scripture verse. Figures she'd make this choice to protest the day I was the lay-reader.
Happily settled down on my lap, Megan grinned. She had gotten her way. She had won. She was putting her Little People in and out of their red car. "Watch out Mommy!" she yelled as she crashed the little red car driven by Sonya Lee into my wrist.
Planting a kiss on the my little 20-month old boss' cheek I said, "You are going to be a handful today, aren't you?"
She smiled at me with the seemingly angelic smile that fools so many others. She nodded and said very simply, "Yeah."