Nothing warms the heart much more than watching my beautiful daughters grow their sisterly bond through using their imaginations to create a fantasy world. Donning their lavender and green crochet baby blankets as robes, they are princesses riding horses and solving mysteries and saving each other from unnamed danger. It’s so spiritually gratifying to have peace in my home. To watch them play and not fight, to cooperate and not compete. Then…
Then– standing about three feet from me, they “huddle up” to plan the next episode of their adventure, and five year-old says softly to the 2 year-old:
“Okay. Pretend I’m in jail. So go in there and cry until I come downstairs.”
And she did.
You can bet your last dollar I was paying attention now, but I wasn’t letting them know I was paying attention. And then — CURSES — their daddy came home, and the game was interrupted. Not that I wanted them to keep playing out this fantasy, but I was eager to see where that was going.
And all I can say is– Wha? Seriously? Where does she get this stuff?