Here I am thinking Mischiefmaker#2 doesn't really like me, but then this Sunday when one of my friend and clients volunteered to watch the boys so I can go to church, (TriniD was still out of the country) I jumped at chance to hear "the Word" in peace. Peace meaning without Mischiefmaker#2 running up and down the isle, shreiking bits and pieces of hymns at the top of his lungs and without Mischiefmaker#1 bugging me to pass him crackers or juice out of the baby bag...
After church, I ask my "babysitter" if I can go to the grocery store. It would mean at least another hour away. It was ICE cold outside and the thought of dragging the two kids out with me to pick up much needed provisions was not appealing.
By the time I had come home, Mischiefmaker#2 was sleeping. I heard from my friend that Mischiefmaker#2 had missed me sooo much that whenever he'd pass a photo of me, he'd break down and bawl . Then he'd recover, start to color with his crayons until Mischiefmaker#1 will mention me and he'd start crying all over again. I found him curled up in my friend's coat sleeping on the basement futon. When he finally woke up, he jumped in my arms and asked me,
"Where you been?"
Huh!?!!?? Come again. Maybe my ears were playing tricks on me.
It made me feel good to know that my almost 2-year old liked me that much that he actually shed mucho tears. See how tough kids get a bad rap?
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