Today we were running errands-just me and the little girls. I got a Redbox, went to the bank, etc, etc. On the way home D. starts screaming, "I have to get a stitch. I hate stitches. Mom, take me to the Dr."
I calmly reply, "Is there blood?"
"Yes! White blood. Take me now!!!!!"
"D. calm down. I am sure you are fine."
"No Mom, I am not. I have to get a stitch. You get 5 strikes. I am going to die."
"D. you won't die. It's just a scratch. You are such total drama."
"No Mom, You're Harry Potter and you're gonna make me die. Would Harry do that?"
The conversation turned to 3 year old gibberish after this, but I was laughing so hard I couldn't stop. This infuriated the demon child in my backseat. She threatened to take away my high heels, put me in jail, tell my husband/her father, and a myriad of other wildly hilarious threats. We did take care of the "white blood" when we got home. She scratched herself and there was a piece of skin hanging off her ankle. All I could think to myself was "Total Drama times 4 for the next 20 years; Wow, I really am bad at math."
Later D. was watching a show with her Dad and there was a sentimental part. He noticed she had tears quietly running down her face. He asked her if she was sad and she said, "No. It's just love coming out my eyes." WOW!