Well, O. K., so there weren't any lions or bears, but there sure were a lot of tigers. At the circus we went to today, that is. Glitzy lights, colorful costumes, loud and fast tempo-ed live music, graceful acrobatics, beautifully groomed horses, goofy clowns, and the traditional ring master all made for endless entertainment for the girls. Even Willow managed to stay engaged throughout almost the entirety of the show, except for the last few minutes when her wiggle-ometer peaked and she just had to get a few of them out of her system. Victoria and I admitted that even we were quite impressed and fully enthralled ourselves. This was our first real outing with just the two girls and their Mom and Dad; a special treat for us all. (Barret's camping on the coast with some friends from our church.)
Just before we left for the circus we had to get the girls up from a nap so that we could make it there on time. Victoria decided to take Poppy and I took Willow. We gave ourselves just a little bit of extra time because as Victoria said just before we walked in their room to wake them up, "We're going to need to de-grumpify these girls before we leave." And boy did we ever. They were both in a stupor and pretty much immediately began to cry, actually almost wail, as we held them and tried to change their clothes. After I finished dressing Willow, we switched man-on-man coverage and I took over with Poppy, and Victoria with Willow. Since Poppy was clearly inconsolable by this point, I figured it was time for her to de-grumpify herself, so I placed her on the bench in the foyer all by her lonesome. I told her I'd come back when she was finished crying. Well, that didn't work because she continued to cry for quite some time. I then went and picked her up and told her, as I carried her to the study room, that she could cry in a room where she wouldn't disturb anyone else. I sat her on the love-seat, turned, walked away and started to close the door. Just before the door shut, Poppy blubbered in the most pathetic voice with alligator tears streaming down her face, "Thank you, Daddy." I couldn't believe my ears, so I softly asked her, "What did you say, Sweetheart?" She said, again through a whimpering cry, "Thank you, Daddy." I said, "O. K., Poppy." Then, I slowly closed the door, with melted heart on the floor, again dumbfounded by the things this little girl says. The crying not surprisingly stopped about one minute later.
We sure are blessed.
Tom
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