
Giselle was at our house for dinner last Sunday (I guess Jenny, Mark and Ziggy were here, too) and every time she saw my camera, it was just more than she could handle. This isn't usual Giselle behavior. She LOVES having her picture taken. I don't know what was up with that. Apparently the click, click, clicks were more than she could bear. The poor girl buried her head in a stuffed bunny (one that sings a chipmunked version of You Are My Sunshine) and sobbed.

She was back to posing minutes later. She always is. I was taking pictures of Ziggy and she started vying for the attention. Poor Giselle, not getting all the attention!

I also went over to Jenny's house and Giselle ran into the closet and hid. She has never been terribly fond of people visiting their house.

Still refusing to come out even though Jenny, Ziggy and I were having a great time reading books about dinosaurs.

Trying to shut the door so she was in the closet and I was out. Jenny wouldn't let her do that, though.

This breakdown wasn't my fault; this breakdown was Jenny's fault because she wouldn't let Giselle close herself in the closet. Jenny is probably the meanest, most unreasonable mom basically ever.

A few kisses later and all was right with the world.
I really shouldn't laugh so much every time Giselle has a breakdown (because they are for the SMALLEST things!), but I just can't help it. Now we can tell her stories about her childhood and say, "and you cried all the time!" (which is what my mom says to me. Often.).


3 comments:
Photos of little kids crying or fighting with each other are a few of my favorite things. What could be more dramatic? My Mom likes to tell me that I cried through a cross country trip. The whole time. There's no photographic evidence, though, so...
I know! I should feel worse, but the breakdowns get me laughing so hard. Which just makes it worse. It's a vicious cycle (o: I never see Bridget crying. She must be perfectly angelic!
There was an element of a children's story in this anecdote. I was sucked in from the first line.
I loved the pictures. I couldn't figure out if the pictures told the story or if they complimented the story.
Well-done Miss Chillygater!
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