Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Day 1273 - Conversations with Emma

Every morning I help Emma brush her teeth.  As I helped her squeeze toothpaste onto her toothbrush, I once again forgot how muscular and manly I am because Emma squeaked, "Ouch!"

"Did I squeeze your hand too hard?" I asked.

"Yah.  That hurt!" Emma exclaimed.

Fast forward about fifteen minutes.  I'm driving the kids to school, and Emma asks me, "Daddy.  How did you give me an ouchy?"

It took me a few seconds to remember which ouchy she was talking about.  The iron mace?  The butane explosion?  Oh yes.  The toothpaste squeeze.

"I squeezed your hand too hard this morning," I answered.

"Oh yah," Emma recalled.  "I'm going to tell the teacher you gave me an ouchy."

Holy social worker!  What did she say to me?

"Why are you going to tell the teacher I gave you an ouchy?" I nervously asked.

"Because it was a bad thing to do," she stated smugly.

"But I didn't mean to do it," I pleaded.

"It was not nice to do, Daddy," she replied as I glared in my rear view mirror and imagined a seventeen year old Emma smoking a Virginia Slim.

"But it was an accident," I said as my closing statement.

Emma shook her head and simply stated, "It STILL was not nice to do.  I'm telling on you."

Fast forward fifteen hours as I ask my blog readers if they could recommend any good lawyers for myself.

1 comment:

White Magpie said...

Ha ha..You should have said a meek 'sorry' instead..