About two days ago, Sailor, you and I were having breakfast. You, as usual, asked for your "why-tees" (whytees = vities = vitamins). I hopped up and grabbed your Juice Plus chewables, which you LOVE and ask for multiple times a day, only to be sorely disappointed when, EVERY DAY, I inform you that we only have them ONCE a day. Although, sometimes you're just so cute and irresistible when you show off your grin framed by your fuzzed-out curly hair and say, "WHY-TEES, TEASE." (Vities PLEASE) that I'll give you ONE more of each at the end of the day. The other day you even remembered that I'll sometimes concede a second round when, after first hearing a no, you responded with a serious negotiation face, one finger up in the air and the word, "ONE." I conceded to that, too. I mean, seriously girl, you tried to NEGOTIATE. Gotta be a little proud of that.
ANYWAY, you were eating your vitamins at breakfast when you let out a yelp and started crying. It was clear that you had bit either your tongue or cheek. I told you I understood how that hurts. You, as you are apt to do when you get ANY kind of injury, whined, "Kiss it." I, of course, said I would. I leaned over to kiss your face and you leaned in and OPENED YOUR MOUTH, assuming I was going to kiss the EXACT SPOT YOU HAD BIT. And this is what you looked like:
Not the MOST appealing, but you're just so cute. I gave you a "feel better" kiss o the side of your mouth, which instantly made it "better." You told me so yourself.