Life with Lucia
It struck me this week as I was driving to Target with the girls that life with Lucia is what it must be like for Andrew to live with me at my most exasperated/dramatic. On the way to Target, we encountered some minor road work, and we were directed on a brief detour to circumvent the closed section of road. Lucia and Greta were calm and happy in the back seat. "Road work," I observed mildly. "Here we go on a detour."
"A DETOUR?" Lucia wailed.
"It's fine. We're just going up this road."
"WHERE ARE WE GOING? WE DON'T KNOW WHERE WE ARE! WE DON'T KNOW HOW TO GET THERE!"
"Yes we do. We just have to turn here."
"BUT ROAD WORK!! THE ROAD IS CLOSED! WE CAN'T GO ON IT!"
"Lucia, it's fine now. We're back on the right street."
"BUT WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE!!"
It's too, too funny to hear my own words coming out of my child's mouth.
"A DETOUR?" Lucia wailed.
"It's fine. We're just going up this road."
"WHERE ARE WE GOING? WE DON'T KNOW WHERE WE ARE! WE DON'T KNOW HOW TO GET THERE!"
"Yes we do. We just have to turn here."
"BUT ROAD WORK!! THE ROAD IS CLOSED! WE CAN'T GO ON IT!"
"Lucia, it's fine now. We're back on the right street."
"BUT WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE!!"
It's too, too funny to hear my own words coming out of my child's mouth.
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