We have spent a lot of time with my parents this week, Abby and I. While the boys were with their dad this past weekend, my daughter and I went out to lunch with her Grandma and Grandpa then went shopping with Grandma before traveling back to their house for dinner. Where Abby was immensely excited to see their dog, Joey.
“Go see Joey?”, she asked hopefully.
“Yes, we are going to see Joey”, I affirmed.
“Joey!”, she cheered.
She was so excited. So excited that she could barely contain herself in her carseat. As we pulled into my parents’ driveway, she began the happy bounce. Nose wrinkled in jubilant anticipation of this canine that she hadn’t seen since Christmas. That she wouldn’t go anywhere near then. It would never hurt her, but this thing with the paws and the tail that keeps wagging back and forth, get it away! Which made her enthusiasm to see him now a little baffling.
“Joey!” she continued on as I unbuckled her from the carseat.
“Joey!”, she kept on as we walked up their front steps.
“Joey!”, as we opened the door.
Then, as Joey came darting out to greet us, stumpy and fat and furry, just as excited to see her as she had been for him, she curled back into my shoulder. The smile disappeared, the lip pouted.
“No Joey! Bad Joey!” And that remained her stance every time he so much as looked at her until we were safely on our way home.
2 year olds are a very confusing bunch.