Last night I received two handmade cards. One from Little Miss the other from The Baby.
Little Miss wrote, Mummy, I love you very very much, love Little Miss.
The Baby can write her name, mummy, daddy and her boyfriend’s name (she refuses to learn to write Little Miss). So, she drew a pretty picture, wrote Mummy, The Baby and drew, cut out and coloured four sweets (two for her, two for me).
Before presenting them to me, I could hear them whispering in the hall, ‘She is going to cry, they will be what she calls ’tears of joy’ they then started arguing over which card I will cry harder for.
When presented with the first card, I genuinely tear with emotion. As I read through the card, I realized what the two were arguing about in the hall, and while incredibly moved with The Baby’s beautiful card – I forced myself to turn on the tears for her card in an attempt to have them match the first round of tears. I failed. Miserably.
The Baby, dissatisfied with quantity and quality of waterworks (she cant write but she can count!) yelled with accusation ‘You cried more when you opened Little Miss’ card’
‘No!’ I protested, ‘ Not true’ I love your card equally! I even managed to push a few tears out.
She stormed out unconvinced.
I no actor.