Many of you are already familiar with the exploits of Cassie. Well, she’s been a baaaaaad dragon lately. The night before last, and the night before that, ACN woke up in the middle of the night. She was very upset and didn’t want to sleep in her bed. And the next day, I found out what the problem was.
It seems as if the little pink shit was pinching ACN’s bum at night. I know! Cassie has been around long enough to know better. Sheeesh. So last night, as punishment, Cassie was sent to sleep in Uncle Pete’s room.
Though I’m not sure who it was supposed to punish, exactly.
When I got up this morning, I broke the news to ACN. “Cassie pinched MY bum last night too!”
ACN looked surprised. She gave me a look that said, “Wow. I’ve been faking it all this time, but maybe that dragon IS bad news.”
Either way, ACN slept in her own bed all night last night.
The story I wanted to tell yesterday is about how ACN gives no kisses to Grandpa. And loves rubbing it in. He’ll beg and plead and all he gets is a big “No.” He’ll pretend to cry. She’ll giggle.
Still no kissies.
Then Uncle Pete will take her out of Grandpa’s arms and she’ll start kissing me right away. Smooching on my neck and cheek. And she’ll look at Grandpa and laugh.
It is hilarious. I rarely get kisses if he isn’t around, but when he is, she kisses me like crazy. The other day I said, “Hey there, you are going to give me a hickey.” She laughed so hard that Cassie peed herself.
The ACN enjoys story time. You know, as long as you read the right story… at the right time. Otherwise, she’ll let you know that you aren’t doing it correctly. One story she seems not to like is “Sleeping Beauty.”
I’m not sure if she objects to the fact that the woman is waiting to be rescued by a man, or if it reminds her of bedtime — which just seems to displease her in general.
Either way, she wants no part of that book.
Though she’d still prefer it to “Molly Moose.”
The ACN learned a lesson recently. She learned that sometimes, on the odd occasion, Uncle Pete knows things.
The ACN ate an ice cream sandwich. Then she was thirsty. I offered a glass of milk and she refused. She wanted apple juice. I told her that it would taste sour after all that sweetness and that she would make THIS face. Which I made for her — and am making for you as I type this, for some reason. But, she was convinced that she wanted some apple juice. So, I gave her a drink.
And she made the face. And coughed. And sputtered.
I asked, “Was Uncle Pete right?”
“Was apple juice a good idea?”
She shook her head “no.”
“Do you want more apple juice?”
She shook her head “no.”
So, I gave her a drink of milk.
“Is that better than apple juice.?”
She stubbornly shook her head “no.”
“Do you want another drink of milk?”
She quickly opened her mouth for more.