I have never known anything that oscillates between moods as quickly my child does.
One second we’re giggling happily at the ridiculous sounds and faces that Dad is making (with the occasional hilarious cameo by Mr. Ceiling Fan), and the next she launches into shrieks of abject hatred, borne straight from the 5th circle of Hell.
It’s amazing she doesn’t suffer some kind of emotional whiplash.
By way of an example, here is a sequence of photos from this morning. These were taken over a time period of roughly 2 minutes.
“Good morning, Father. Ready to ride the Emocoaster?”
“I’m ready too. This promises to be fun.”
“Because you, sir, are the funniest man I have EVER met.”
“Although I’ve only met 8 or 9… So you might not be that funny.”
“Nope, not funny at all.”
“Okay wait. That googly face isn’t half bad.”
“Comedic genius! How can one man be so amazing?”
“Stop please. It’s getting creepy…”
“That’s it. You and me. Rumble circle. Bring it, Beard Boy.”
“Wait. My shank isn’t where I left it. It was right here in the puppy.”
“You stole it, didn’t you…”
“Fine. You win this round, Old Man.”
“Whaddya say we drop the whole thing and you make with the googly faces again?”
See you tomorrow.