Emmi has dental surgery on Friday. In order to undergo the anesthesia, she had to complete a physical examine at our general practitioner's office today. As soon as we walked into the waiting room, Emmi's eyes lit up.
A little person. Oh shit. Please, please do not let this be a repeat of the Texas Children's incident.
"Mommy, Mommy look," she cooed. "She little!" Oh crap. Not again.
Emmi loves her some little people.
I tried to redirect her. I tried to drag her to the train table, to read a book, to bribe her with a lollipop.
None of it worked.
"Mommy. She so little. So, so little!"
I quietly explained that we don't talk about the way people look. Emmi listened with a confused expression. "But, she little Mommy!"
It is hard to explain how mean it can be to discuss someone's looks when, clearly, her little looks pleased Emmi so! Mean. Pwah. She was in love! To no avail, I explained, hushed, and threatened time out.
Emmi began to pout. "But, Mommy, she so, so little..."
Frustrated, I responded. "Yes, she is little, and you are deaf. Just facts of life. What is your point?"
Emmi stared at me for a moment. "....... but she little."