When she is good she is very, very good and when she is bad she makes me want a drink before church on Sunday morning.
This morning she didn’t want to get dressed. She finally agreed to get dressed but didn’t want any help. When I went to check on her five minutes later, she was laying in bed with her blanket on and when I asked if she was okay, she gave the lamest fake cough I’ve ever heard. She wanted to wear a T-shirt when I asked her to wear a dress. When I agreed to the T-shirt, she wanted a dress. When it was time to get in the car to go to church, she changed her mind about her dress and wanted a different one. She told me to wear my brown boots instead of my black boots and when I looked like I might not, she started to whimper (I will admit I caved on that one — it’s very possible she was right).
When we got in the car, she didn’t like the music. Any of it. Then she yelled at me for alternately snapping, clapping and bobbing my head. So I did all three.
If she’s this bad now, it can only get better, right? She has nowhere to go from here and will grow to be a happy and well-rounded teenager with nary a trouble? Right? Right?
