From a very young age, the tendency toward the theatric is second nature for my second daughter. As a three-year-old, she would be found wandering the house growling, "Where's my damn blankie!" or when she had to pay for something out of her piggy bank she'd wail, "I'm not a rich girl!"
I thought maybe that would end as she got older. Wrong.
Usually once a week she talks about how horrible her life is and how no one likes her and how things are "so not fair!" The unfair complaint is pretty typical for kids with siblings, I've heard (and know from experience). But, she doesn't draw the line there.
The other day I was helping her get ready for school, by making her lunch. She was in her typical tumultuous rush. She was in a dark mood; nothing was going right, apparently. I called out to her from the kitchen and the scene went something like this:
Me: What do you want for your sandwich?
Goose: Yeah! Nothing.
Me: How come? You know you're going to be hungry.
Goose: (controlled scream) I'm fasting!
Me: (nonchalantly) Oh yeah? What for?
Goose: (practically in tears, now) That the Lord will take away my life!
Me: Hmm. Interesting.
Then the thought, "I wonder if I should tell her that there are quicker ways to get results?"
These are the days of my life.