First, you’re saving my life. You’re giving me twelve hours over the next three days of working time, allowing me to get caught up and ahead, just in case we find an incredible deal so we can get out of town on to a hot beach down south. For that, I could kiss you, but don’t worry – I won’t.
Also? You’ve allowed me to get my fix of the the juicy, juicy storyline of season two of the Affair.
So, you’re here – and I’m upstairs working, I can hear my strong willed girl create the storyline, tell you strongly what she’s doing, where she’s going and what you are doing next. I’m resisting the urge to tell her to relax, to let you be in charge, to stop trying to take control of play.
She knows what she wants. Whether it’s curly hair and a perm, or to play another round of crowded waters, whether it’s the specific pair of mittens she is looking for, or the route you’re going to take to get to the North Pole to find the elf on the shelf that’s away being healed from the unfortunate ‘they gave it a bath’ incident.
She’s loud. She’s rambunctious. She likes to be in charge and take the lead and she can be overbearing – after all, she’s just five years shy of your own young age.
Again, I can hear Olivia giving you directions about how to get Violet dressed to go outside. It makes me smile but feel for you, trying to reign in this six year old who is so sure of herself, and not afraid to take control of the show.
I know you’re earning that ten bucks an hour with this ones but I’m not going to interfere, I’m not going to call her bossy, I’m simply going to remind her to take a breath and focus, relax, and please go outside if she feels the need to run.
As for taking charge? Let’s just hope it sticks with her.