My Emotional Girl

When T. was a very little boy, he planned to marry me. It was sweet. Now, K. marches importantly around the house, wearing dress-up clothes and my high heeled shoes, announcing, in her version of a grown-up lady’s voice, that Ed is her husband, and telling us about how Busy she is. “Husband,” she will say, “Fix me a bowl of ice cream.” Or, “Husband, you need to push me on the swing!” I am promoted to the position of Granny, and she asks me if I will watch her children when she goes to the store (which, of course, I am happy to do!).

When she swings back to being the “baby,” though, she swings hard. Last night, she was talking about being a grown up, and I asked her not to grow up too quickly. She started sobbing, saying that she didn’t want to grow up, that she wanted to be a baby forever. Of course, I told her that she would always be my baby, but she managed to work herself into such a state that she was actually sick. She is a Very Emotional little thing.

One of our bedtime stories last night was “Telltale Tit: The Love Story of Mercury and Lara,” from Roman Myths by Geraldine McCaughrean. In the story, Lara, a nymph who chatters too much, tells Juno, queen of the gods, about some of her husband’s many indiscretions. Jupiter is so angry with Lara that he takes her tongue, and orders Mercury to take her to be a prisoner in the underworld. Mercury falls in love with her, because she is cute and a really good listener and they get married, live in a little cottage in the woods, have two children, and live happily ever after. Pretty good ending for a Roman myth, eh? Not good enough for K. She got upset and cried because Lara wouldn’t be able to read to her children, or take them to the library and talk with the ladies at the gift shop, or set up play dates for them! I don’t think she’s ready for mythology.