Lily was walking around the house looking stricken yesterday evening.
me: “Lil, you OK? You look really stressed.”
Lily: “I am. I am stressed.”
Lily: “My stomach hurts.”
me: “Oh, no. What from?”
Lily: “Nervous. It’s from me being nervous.”
me: “Honey, why are you nervous?”
Lily: [looks at me like I’m crazy] “Christmas, Mom. It’s, like, tomorrow. I can’t take the pressure. It’s just stressing me out. Elves are watching and there’s going to be presents and I have to be good and I don’t want to be good. I’m supposed to, like, go to sleep. Well, what if I don’t want to go to sleep?" [pauses, takes a breath and shakes her head] "Nervous. I’m just... nervous.”
me: “But you got a video. You’re on the ‘nice’ list. You don’t need to be nervous.”
Lily: “Tell that to my stomach.”
me: “I’m so sorry, honey.”
Lily: “Me, too. This whole thing is making me feel all gassy.”
(There’s really no good response to that, is there.)
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