The other day, Tatum asked what was that chirping sound. I said that the crickets like to chirp at night. She asked me if they were mean or nice. I said they are harmless and basically just hop around chirping.
This gives context to our morning today.
Tatum had me “come quick, Mommy!” right during the making of the oatmeal. This cannot be interrupted unless you want lumps. Buuuuuuut, it was urgent! So the oatmeal had to wait. Sacrifices!
Tatum showed me the little baby cricket in the hallway. This was the emergency?
Well, it gets better. She began singing to it. I mean belting away the tunes right to its little self. It didn’t move much so she sang louder. This trumped the drinking of her milk which, if you know Tatum, is unheard of. She wanted to return the love of his chirps.
Mommy, I think he’s dead. She blamed Coti. “He smoooshed it!” (I did not want to break her heart and tell her he was already dead, so we went with the Coti excuse).
She now had a sad song to serenade it.
I’m sure there’ll be more crickets, honey.