Kayleigh comes up to me while I'm getting dressed for work:
"Daddy, my foot itches!"
Crap - 6am, I'm standing there in my BVD's (trying to get my pants on), and she's got the whining tone going... this is not going to bode well for the start of my day.
"So," I say with my most paternal voice, "scratch it!"
"BUT DAD! THEN IT ITCHES MOOOORRREEEEE!"
*ugh*
"Ok...then DON'T scratch it...?"
She lets out an audible sigh and adds an octave to the whine...
"But it ITCHES!"
...really...?
"So...SCRATCH IT!"
"DAAAADDDDDDDDD!!!!"
I just glare at her...too early and trying to get my boots on here...
"GO SCRATCH IT. OR DON'T SCRATCH IT. EITHER WAY - IT'LL STOP AFTER A WHILE!"
Kay walked away whimpering...
(I swear - if she goes up a few more octaves, she'll whine like a mosquito)
...and I finally got to put my pants on.
Yup...it's Monday morning in my house...
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