When I called the house earlier this afternoon to let my mom know that I was going to be home late after receiving a last-minute invitation to a work-related dinner, Sophie overheard the conversation and took the handset from my mom.
“Mommy! I need you to come home now! Right away!” I explained that I was going to be late, and promised that I’d make it home in time to read her a book. The waterworks started. “Mommy! I really miss you and I need you to come home now!” she exclaimed as she became increasingly upset.
Which of course made me upset. And made me feel guilty that I wasn’t home when she “needed” me to be home. And made me start to question, for the millionth time, why I wasn’t home when she “needed” me to be home.
Granted, Sophie is a master manipulator at almost-7 years old. She should take formal acting lessons because she has the rare ability to cry on her own command. Frankly, it’d be more fascinating to watch if I wasn’t the reason for her crying.
Yet I’m flattered. She wants to spend time with me. So much so that she bursts into tears when I can’t spend as much time with her as she’d like. Which means I must be doing something right.