What is the child on? Who fed her so much sugar? Is it sugar? Who knows???
She's bouncing off walls. She's careening into random strangers.
"Watch out!" I told her, "We're in a parking lot!"
"Pfffth!" she said, and went skipping merrily away from me, laughing at my utter lack of control and mastery over my child—at my feeble attempts to keep her safe. And at socially acceptable levels of annoyance.
She spilled her drink on the table. She spilled something else on her mother. Twice. She had to go change pants (her mother, not Sophie).
Called on her naughtiness, Sophie is momentarily chagrinned. But she quickly turns this into annoyance and contempt: "I DON'T LIKE YOU!" she shouts as she screws up her little face into a scowl.
And then "I love you. Daddy, I love you. I love Mommy," she whispers.
Then she tries to climb me. Again.
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