Last night I told the kids that dad is in the hospital. Not a fun conversation, but I found a way to make it not so scary. When it was time to pack dad's bag to take to him that evening, Caroline decided to pack a sleepy toy for dad. She went to her room and she and I went through her toy chest and she pulled out a toy.
"Is this the one you want daddy to have," I'd ask.
"Mm-hmm," was her response. Then there was this long pause and tears, "But I'll miss _______ (insert toy's name)."
"Oookay then, it's not ________ (insert toy's name)," I'd say.
Then she'd pick another toy, and we'd go through the same scenario: That's definitely the toy, maybe not, definitely not, pick another toy.
This went on until we were at the last toy: Oscar the Grouch.
"This is the one," she exclaimed with joy as I sit there waiting for the tears to start.
What no tears? YESSSSS, this is the one.
So when we got to the valet at the hospital, the drivers got a chuckle when one asked her if she wanted to leave her Oscar in the car and she replied,
"No thanks. It's my daddy's sleepy toy so he won't get lonely."
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1 comment:
thats my baby
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