If you know my little red head...you know her as the dramatic type. When she is sick...there is no mistaking it. When she is happy...you know it. When she is uncomfortable...you know it. She has a flair for fashion and a very vibrant personality. I joke that if our family was a box of crayons, she'd be the brightest red crayon in the box. She is Layla and I don't think God made another like her and WOW how I love that little thing!
Events unfolded today that have made it one of the most memorable mom days yet...
My hubby is leaving for Africa on Thursday, so me and the girls took a trip to Wal-Mart for his last minute care package stuff--you know, the essentials (peanut butter, granola bars, dried fruit and nuts, Gatorade powder, malaria medication). While we were walking through the store, I heard one of Layla's dramatic gasps and knew she must have spotted a baby doll or stuffed animal that she was in love with. I was partially right...she found a baby doll...a pretty pink one BUT she wanted to buy it and send it with daddy. I told her daddy probably wouldn't need a baby to sleep with to which she quickly responded that it was not for daddy but for a little girl in Africa who didn't have a baby doll. We also bought gummy snacks to send...because every little girl needs gummy snacks, right? I was instantly blown away by how sweet and unselfish she was--right there in the middle of the baby doll aisle!
So we get home...fast forward to nap time. I get her snuggled in and walk out of the room--only to hear her screaming minutes later. I walk in to deliver her tissue that I forgot to leave for her (since becoming sick with that cold WEEKS ago, she now has to have a tissue every time she goes to bed). I walked out of the room and turned around to say "nite nite" when I saw her leaning on her railing--you know..the kind that is supposed to keep your toddler IN the bed. I started to tell her not to lean on it...it would break--for the 50th time--when I heard a pop, and saw her fall--face first--to the ground.
DRAMA....she wailed. I picked her up and asked her what hurt. Her lip. It was "broken"....so I asked her to move it, wiggle it and smile. She did all of those with the most pained look on her face. I told her the good news was that she could move it...so it was probably just a really bad sprain. She told me that she'd probably still need crutches. INTERESTING! Who knew that lip sprains required crutches. Well, now ya know! She also said she really felt like the dog in Sandlot when the fence fell on him and everyone was sad. Then she asked that I act like Smalls (the kid in the brown shirt and khakis) and be sad for her (for a replay...fast forward to 7:15).
Thankfully, I held my laugh until I shut her door. I'm still laughing. Gosh...I just have the best job in the world and I still have the WHOLE afternoon in front of me.