Setting: Emma and I are lying in the floor talking.
Tripp is sleeping.
We need to wake him up.
We both don't want to.
Emma: Momma, What time is Tripp gonna get up?
Me: Well, Emma, we probably need to go get him up now.
Emma: Why, Momma? It is just gonna start all over again.
Me: What, the crying?
Emma: (nods, looks sad)
Me: Emma, to tell you the truth, you kinda pick at him and make him cry. And he doesn't feel good. You are being mean to him.
Emma: I was mean to him BEFORE he had the flu.
At least she is honest.
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