Saturday morning, Sam spoke a phrase I didn't expect to hear out of her mouth for another 6 to 10 years.
She told my husband: "I don't like you."
This, as you can imagine, did not sit well with Daddy. He was trying to be very sweet to her and coax her downstairs for some pancakes so that I could get more than four hours of sleep. And the Sammy Monster Who Must Have Her Own Way just didn't want to go.
Damon had just walked out of the bedroom, carrying her, when she said it. He turned around, brought her back in, dumped onto our bed and said, "Sorry, but that's one I just can't take."
Continue reading So not fine with it.
