So, Lulu was terrified of this picture my cousin had up of her daughter, grinning from ear to ear and covered in mud. All afternoon we've had this conversation:
Why was that picture hangin'? Why did Annika have mud on her face in that picture? She looked like a bad guy.
You mean she looked like a monster?
Yeah, a monster. I was screamin' so loud because I thought Annika was a monster.
Well Annika's not a monster, Pipsy, she's a little girl, just like you. She was just playing in the mud and her mom took that picture of her because she thought she looked so cute!
I didn't think it was cute. It was scary.
I know, that's why you yelled for half an hour about it, right?
Yah. Does Annika's mom like that picture?
It's not scary?
Why was there mud? Did she have a baf after that to get rid of the stuff?
Yes, I think she had a bath.
I was scared!
(starting to smile inside, wanting, in 20 years' time to be able to remember the priceless look of concern on her face RIGHT at this moment)
Annika's not a bad guy? Annika's ok?
Yes, Annika's ok. Did you think the mud hurt her?
Yeah. She needed to get washed off.
(This is where the hands start to go up to cover her ears because she's done talking about the whole sordid affair. Wash, rinse, repeat conversation, 83,487 times)
I told Scott I wanted to set the picture as my computer desktop and invite Lucy to play computer games after dinner.
I get the feeling Lucy's a worrier like I was, and still am. I don't like this! Is this a phase, or is this something that is probably more of a personality thing? She is suddenly aware of the possibilities of danger, all around us. I am thinking that now is the time to get those Bible verses about trusting God into that noggin of hers. Someone came to the door today and she was convinced it was Jeffrey Dahmer coming to get us. She was shrieking, yelling at me to sound all the alarms in our little green house.
It was the neighbor girl, wanting to play.