If you are a parent you know that by the end of each day you tell yourself today you need to read books or cuddle together for a chat but you know in your heart that by the end of that day you will not be occupied with reading books or cuddling under a soft bed throw, but picking up the remains of your house that your child has been disassembling all day, piece by piece, and if your child wears a pair of socks to bed that actually match, you can congratulate yourself – you are doing something right. But then, when you are about to crash, or snap, or lose it, your baby says something like: You are my big flower and I am your tiny butterfly, and you… melt inside for a second, then snap, crash, and lose it, and go work on your abs, and your ass, and your biceps, and try not to look at the zombie that stairs at you in the mirror….
P.S. More pearls from my wise daughter:
The prince broke my heart. And then he broke my other heart.
You are the best cooker. You are the best writer.
The ouchie loves me so much, she is kissing and hugging me (about a nasty scratch).
Let’s go cook dinner for breakfast.
No talking, just keep quiet and pee (to me, in a public toilet)…
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