Not even 3 years old and she’s already becoming my arch-nemesis.
We were all playing out in the backyard tonight after dinner. The game for this evening consisted of CB running after her big, green ball and trying to get it before Daddy did. When I did manage to get the ball first, CB did not like it one bit. So, after a few times of this, she led me over to her playhouse, opened the door, and motioned for me to go inside.
This is not unusual, as one of CB’s favorite things is to have me go inside her playhouse and “cook” with her. I thought tonight she had simply bored of the other game and wanted to play something else.
I go inside the house to the sink and start “cooking.” When I turn around to ask CB what she wanted, all I see is CB slamming the door, and sprinting in the opposite direction, ball in hand, squealing with delight.
I suddenly knew, after all these years, exactly how the Coyote felt – just as he realized he had stepped off the edge of the cliff…