Thing 2, age 3
After a couple of days of having a big,spotty, brother, Thing 2 had become quite attached to the thought of getting chickenpox. She had begun to see it as a sign of being more grown up.
Every morning since Thing 1 announced with pride that he had chickenpox, Thing 2 has woken me with the instruction to look at her back and search her for chickenpox... To no avail.
This morning was no different. My attention was demanded to look at her and check for the spots. No spots visible.
This afternoon was a different matter though...Thing 3 had a rough afternoon. Crying and not able to get comfy. Finally, after munching on mud in the garden, she found the land of nod. When she awoke, she screamed and shouted. Flung herself about and caused chaos.
I checked her back; two chickenpox. I showed Thing 1 and he ran to tell Thing 2.
Thing 2 then marched into the room,hands on hips, demanding proof of this revelation. I showed her, she sulked momentarily. Feet were stamped, that dreaded phrase; 'it's not fair!' Was uttered.
But then, she settled most happily into mother hen role; asserting that 'only big sisters can give calpol to little sisters'. Thing 3 wholeheartedly agreed by point blank refusing my attempt to administer medication, but gleefully taking it when offered to her by Thing 2.
Thing 2 then fussed over the littlest Thing and tucked her into her doll's wooden cradle.
Two down and one to go..... But what is it they say? Two out of three ain't bad!!!
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