Monday, February 12, 2007

hypochondria in the four year-old

Lola has taken to inventing various illnesses. This morning, she proclaimed, "I am sick!"

"What's wrong with you?" I asked.

"The blood in my foot! I can't walk because of my blood in my legs!"

She hopped around dramatically to illustrate that there was something wrong with the blood in her legs.

"What should we do?" asked her father.

"CARRY ME!" demanded Lola. Her father obligingly picked her up, and she snuggled into his chest happily.

"I think giving in to this is a bad precedent," I said.

"IT'S A GOOD PRECEDENT!" shouted Lola. "Daddy can be my legs!"

Thankfully the blood in Lola's legs and feet did not prevent her from taking her swimming lesson, walking to Starbucks, or fighting with her sister.

2 comments:

hughman said...

point out to her that we all, hopefully, have blood in our legs.

but i would honestly welcome someone carrying me around all day like a royal slave.

blood in my legs? "WALK FASTER PEON! THE LINE FOR MY CARAMEL MACHIATTO ISNT GETTING SHORTER!!!"

Silliyak said...

Keep an eye on her Achilles tendons. SH may have inspired IUA.