Bandaid

Emma's face is red. Tears have stained her face and her fit continues. She is upset because she has to wear shorts. She wants desperately to wear a dress & be the prettiest. I do my best to explain she is gorgeous just as the other little girl is gorgeous too. God made each of them beautiful...
I have picked out her outfit today. Emma has been given new clothes once again yet she insists on wearing the same thing over and over. I know, I know, this really shouldn't be a battle, but right now Roy & I have been trying to teach her to be gracious for what she has been given. We are trying to teach her to not take for granted all the clothes she has & not waste what has been given to her. These lessons sure make her mad.
Dang-it! she screams, as her foot pounds on the floor. (Do I actually say Dang-it! Where has she heard that?) She clings to my neck and holds tight. Her body folds to the carpet. But I love you, Mom! she whines.
Now- right here is the quick sweet moment. (Don't blink.) Jack enters. Pacifier in his mouth. Already dressed in his shorts, wearing his bold mohawk. Here, sissy, he says through the sides of his pacifier. He hands her a bandaid. A Spiderman bandaid to fix where she is hurting & sad. A small gift for his princess. My heart melts and swells with pride all in the same instant. I am waiting for Emma to reciprocate the love and drop her bad attitude.
Moment over. But I don't like Spiderman! she whines.
Oy vey..