Along with small girls comes a little bit of drama. We had an episode yesterday on the way to school when M told B she was sick.
"No, you're not!" replied B.
"Yes, I am!" said M, "I fell off a ladder yesterday and now I am sick!"
"M's faking." B told me as I climbed into the van after buckling the little boy passenger into his seat.
"Is she?" I replied.
"Yeah," said B.
An argument ensued. By the time we drove down the street and around the corner, M was working up a rather healthy crop of tears. She scrunched up her face and poured on the drama. By the time I opened the door to unbuckle her, I'd seen enough. "Stop that crying right now!" I said. "You have nothing to cry about."
She looked surprised and attempted to stifle her now full force act. She sniffled as we walked toward the school and I took her hand. I think she had forgotten all about why she was crying in the first place and was now heartbroken over the fact that I had gotten after her. She continued to sniff and gulp air. Once she had her jacket off I took her in my arms and gave her a hug. "I still love you," I said, "Are you okay now?" She shook her head and held on. We sat for a little while until she collected herself and went off to play dollhouse with B.
Today we had another piece of drama. I wasn't watching but Ben says one tried to grab from the other. Loud "no's" were exchanged. One small child jumped up from the floor and threw her face into a pillow on the couch. Loud wailing followed. The other child cried quietly in the corner. They were no longer friends... but that was ten minutes ago, before I told the wailing child that she had cried long enough. Now they are friends again, playing toys and chatting happily.
Why do these exchanges amuse me so?