I found this part particularly funny. V was sick, she’s back and it’s fun.
I jumped out of my chair so fast you would have thought someone lit my ass on fire. “Of course you can have a glass of milk!” I told her, “Any girl with manners as perfect as those can have all the milk she wants!”
As I walked to the fridge and poured her milk, I went on and on and on about how adorable little girls with good manners are. After I handed her the glass of milk, she enthusiastically said, “Thank you!”
I dramatically clutched my heart and insisted that my body could not handle this level of cuteness. I implied that if she kept this behavior up, I might just keel over dead after having a cute-attack. She giggled happily.
I sat with her as she ever so daintily sipped her milk. I was sure to let her know that the way she was sipping out of her glass was especially regal and speculated that she must come from a long line of royal princesses. She beamed.
When she was all done, she picked up her glass and dropped it into the kitchen sink. I responded by hurling my body to the floor, twitching and convulsing in throes of a full-fledged cute-attack.
“Oh no!” I moaned, “I can’t take this! Please, thank you, and putting your cup in the sink? Are you trying to kill me? What’s next, Princess? Are you going to pick up your toys without me asking? Oooohhh! I can’t take it! I can’t take the cuteness!”
Laughing hysterically, she ran into her room and starting picking up her toys.
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