If you're lucky enough to be Irish, you're lucky enough
About a week ago, I told Lily a famous little Irish saying: “When God made time, he made plenty of it.” She loved it and for the next few days, whenever she felt rushed and started slowing things down, which is how she copes with feeling rushed, she’d say, “Mom, what do the Irish say again about time?”
Last night, Lily slowed things waaaaaaaaaaay down at bedtime. Getting into her PJs took about 20 minutes, brushing her teeth took another 20 minutes. . . . . I finally lost my patience and snapped that if the pace didn’t pick up, there would be no bedtime story (this is practically the nuclear option at our house—as a family of literary people, we’ll give up almost anything before we’ll give up reading).
Lily burst into tears and bawled for a full ten minutes. Then, she sidled up to me and hugged me and said, “Mom, I think I’m beginning to understand what you mean about me having all that Irish in me. “
blogarama
