We’d been on our camping trip for the better part of a week, and we were getting a little tired. Varmint was starting to miss her creature comforts, her friends, and her cats.
And she had fallen into a funk. Oh, it was a temporary funk, but it was a funk none-the-less.
So I did what I always do as her compassionate, empathetic mama.
I teased her.
I teased, and cajoled and coaxed her relentlessly.
Hey there Varmint….cheer up, Buckaroo! Frowning causes wrinkles!
Aw come on now! It’s not that bad.
Mom, you’re not helping.
Come On little Varmint! Give me a smile, my Little Buckaroo!
Mom, if I stare at you long enough, maybe my eyes will drill a hole into your head, rendering you speechless.
Aw baby, don’t be like that! Give me a little grin. Give me a little smirk. A wee little smile.
No. Go away.
If you smile, I’ll buy you a piece of Huckleberry pie!
There, you see? A mother knows.
And blood tells.