Our little girl, Catie is four. She likes to climb in bed with us. If we are lucky, she waits until morning. The other morning she was a little late. The alarm had already gone off, but it was cold, so Hubband and I huddled together in the middle of the bed for a few minutes. When he left to take his shower, Catie was standing at the side of the bed, glaring.
"Hey, good morning, little monkey. How are you?" I said.
"Why were you stuck together like that?" she asked, stone-faced and serious.
"We were hugging."
"Because we love each other. You are very lucky to have a mommy and daddy who love each other."
"What about me? I need love." This was not a whine, as is most of her conversation. This was a cold statement of fact.
"Well, honey, you could have climbed in with us."
"There wasn't room," she said, pointedly.
Then, after about five seconds, and almost as if changing the subject, she got a huge smile on her face, threw her arms around my neck in a hug, and said in her sweetest voice, "Don't worry, Mommy. I'm going to draw you a beautiful picture to show you how much I love you before you die."
Um...is there someone I should call about this?