So, I was confronted with a truth this Friday. My darling niece spent the coldest week of the year with us...and left her jacket in New Orleans. So, we shopped at all the lovely thrift stores I know...and then broke down and tried Wal-Mart for a jacket (still no luck!). While in Wal-Mart, we exchanged unpleasantries and I told her I wasn't talking to her until she apologized (you know, just typing it makes it sound as petty as it really was). After several minutes of complete silence through Wal-Mart, quite unlike our usual blue-streak of chatter, she apologized and we were friends again.
(fast-forward to getting ready for the Christmas party)
I am in the backseat of the car, struggling valiantly with the maniacal carseat, when my husband turns off the carlights and I must continue my efforts in the dark. Poor dear, he doesn't realize the brain power required for such a task--yet! We exchanged words over the necessity of the interior lamps. As I fumed in silence, Laurel piped up with (Heaven help me!)
"Uncle James, Aunt Becca's not talking to you because she's Mad."
Hmm, I knew I internalized anger, but is my coping mechanism so blatant that a three-year-old can pick up on it? Guess so. Thankfully, her comment broke the tension and we were all able to laugh it off. You know, I told her she should visit so I could practice for when I have my own little girl. I suppose she took me seriously.
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