Last Saturday evening, my girls and I were seated in the family/living room watching a Halloween type cartoon jobby on one of the kids' channels. I believe it was the Flintstones' special. (I was reading and feigning interest in what the kids had to say about various parts of the show.)
Getting on in the program, Shorty was beginning to get restive. She was sitting on the arm of my chair and Stretch had pulled the hassock/humpty/foot-stool over next to us and was sprawled across it. Apparently (and rather suddenly) Shorty found her proximity to us an affront, and proceeded to turn her little self sideways and start kicking Stretch and pushing her off her perch.
This, of course, caused the very natural reaction on Stretch's behalf of whining her freakin' head off ... which caused me to raise my voice to Shorty ... which caused Shorty to begin kicking harder ... causing Stretch to wail ... and onward ... until I reached over beside me, grabbed Shorty's pants (at the legs) and lifted her legs up and around and sat them on my lap - while I was scolding her for harassing her sister.
At this stage in the proceedings, Shorty sprang from the chair, stamped her little foot, and pushed her balled up little fists down against her thighs ... she then turned on her heel and marched (Military style) out of the room and stomped her way up the stairs ... where she stayed for roughly 15 minutes - until I conned Stretch into going up and talking her into coming back down, she didn't right away, but when she eventually did descend the stairs, she had an envelope for me ... and inside was this:
(For anyone who does not speak or read '5 year old' this means "I don't love Mom" ... which is only written this way because there is no symbol for hate of which she is aware ... next I'll be getting a swastika through my picture or some such thing...)
I honestly didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I did neither. I thanked her for the lovely artwork (at which point she scowled at me and huffed off to another part of the room to finish the show) and then eventually, I sweet talked her into getting back up on the arm of my chair to cuddle with me again.
I am in so much trouble ... oh boy!