“Boo!” said Miss3.
“Ohh!” said Tracey, faking surprise for the tenth or eleventh time in a row. “You scared me.”
Again, Miss3 giggled and disappeared beneath the blankets on our bed.
“Boo!” she yelled again, her grinning face reappearing.
“Oh my goodness, where did you come from?” said Tracey. How she comes up with new things to say every time is a real life skill.
The blankets were once again drawn up over Miss3’s chuckling face. And then thrown off again.
“BOO!” she squealed at her mother.
“You got me again,” said Tracey.
This game had been going on for several minutes on the other side of our bed. Despite Miss3 being positioned between Tracey and myself, I was listening but pleasingly not involved.
That was about to change.
“How about,” Tracey suggested, “you scare your daddy next?”
“Okay,” my young daughter chimed.
I reluctantly opened my eyes as Miss3 turned to face me. Our eyes locked. She was still grinning but her eyebrows edged towards each other slightly, like she was thinking as she stared me hard in the eyes.
Then her face relaxed and her smile widened considerably.
A part of me was just starting to ponder why she hadn’t pulled the blankets up over her face again when….
“Boo!” she announced. “I farted!”
“Game over,” I said, throwing back the sheets and escaping a potential dutch oven.
I tell you, it sure as sharp knives & chainsaws is scary how much like her mother our little girl is.
“Raising a family on little more than laughs”
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