In Which I Feel Small, Very Small

My little friend Lainey has what we call a flair for the dramatic. Loosely translated it means she cries over small things. Often.

Some days are better than others and some days I make her go sit in the dining room until she's done because

I'd rather not listen anymore.

So a few days back we were having a dining room kinda day. I was in the laundry room, probably working on getting magic marker out of Emily's pants (again) when I hear Lainey start to fuss.

I would like to say that I used good parental skills and checked out the situation before passing judgement, but actually I used a slightly exasperated, clearly frustrated, and a little louder than usual voice and said

Lainey, you'd better not be crying over something little!

Then Andy started calling my name and saying things like

Stop rubbing it sweetie, it'll be okay..Jess? JESS!?

Well crud.

I peeked around the corner and there on the floor sat my poor girl with both of her eyes completely covered in

lotion.

Not just any lotion. It was the perfume infused, smells like a lotus flower in a clover garden lotion from the mall.

All over her eyes. Huge globs.

At this point she's crying and trying to rub her eyes with hands that are also completely covered.

So I start profusely apologizing for being the meanest mommy ever all the while getting paper towels, wet washcloths and saline to take care of my poor little gal before her baby blues turn a permanent shade of red.

Thankfully she was fine within minutes of the incident, and we have a new

"no lotion on the face" rule.

Who knew we would need that one?

On a brighter note, Emily was so scared of impressed by the mean mommy voice she took it upon herself to stop writing on her pants.