Daddy’s Little Girl

Sophie did not have a very good day today. It was mostly because I was around more than usual for a Thursday, which is her day with our beloved babysitter, whom she also sometimes calls “Grammy.”

Because of the crappy weather, I ran some errands and returned home a few minutes after Sophie had fallen asleep for her daily nap. Impeccable timing on my part. She wasn’t yet in a deep enough sleep not to hear me walk in. So she woke up in a very bad mood and cried and cried – the snot streaming down her face and onto her shirt. She finally calmed down, I went off to do some work, and she temporarily returned to her normal, happy self while playing with our babysitter, and then with Chloe and her friend.

The good times weren’t to last, however. Papa came home early, but he needed to go upstairs to work for another hour or so. Sophie caught a glimpse of my husband before he climbed to the attic, but she’s only two and doesn’t know the difference between 4 pm and 6 pm. For her, it was time for Papa stop typing and start playing. But Papa wasn’t ready to play. Shortly after he had closed the door to the office, she used her little legs to follow him all the way up the stairs. And she was stymied. The door was locked.

She lost it, and cried and cried some more – the snot streaming down her face all over again. She hollered one of her frequent laments: “Papa! Papa! Papa!” But there was nothing I could do, really. When I tried to hug her, she pushed me away. When I tried to comfort her, she went into the sunroom and closed the door behind her. When I really pissed her off by trying to show her some love, she ran into the coat closet and hid.

I chuckled at that move and Chloe did too. When Sophie finally emerged from the closet, she was still completely hysterical. And there was still nothing I could do. So I started to laugh a little harder. At which point, Chloe berated me. “Mommy, that’s not funny. Sophie hiding in the closet was funny. But she’s very sad.” And despite myself, I laughed some more.

Chloe then took over. And she did her best to console her little sister. It was very poignant. But no luck. Not until the three of us went upstairs to my bedroom, and I offered to host a session of jumping on the bed. At that, Sophie started to rein in the sniffles. And when she started to jump, the sniffles stopped. And the first hint of a smile appeared on her cute little face.

A little while later, Papa made his long-awaited entrance. Jubliant screams ensued. Not to mention silly faces like the one in the photo above. Happiness!

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