I hate hearing my words and tone coming out of Girl Terror's mouth. She mimics me perfectly when she tells her brother what not to do, and she uses my words against me regularly. But this morning, she warmed my heart.
While doing dishes, I broke a glass and gashed my hand. Nothing serious, just enough to convince me that doing dishes is hazardous to my health (yippee!). I held the paper towel on my hand, waiting for the bleeding to stop. Girl Terror was very concerned. She didn't understand that this wasn't serious, I would be fine, and that the doctor was not needed. Finally, she came over and patted my head. "It's okay." She hugged me and said "You need to be careful, my little one!" Awww. I know who's looking after me when I get old!