I am A Little Princess

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nine-year-old daughter, Vivien, namely a little princess, who below natural circumstances can't even gush herself a cup of breast. Even for a child, she had such a imperial air that her father and I used apt joke that she have to have discovered us under the heading "slaves" in some catalog for pre-womb babies questing for parents.
Now that I'm a single parent, I'm her merely attendant-in-waiting during her time with me. So while I came home shivering with fever at lunchtime 1 daytime final week, my first thought was, How ambition Her Royal Littleness react! It would be also many to anticipate her to really leave me in truce to recess, in the absnece of to a standing ovation me in anyone way. But would she at least be willing to forage for herself at mealtime? At 3:30 P. M. , I hauled myself out of bed and drove to educate to pick her up. In the car on the path home, I said, "Sweetheart, Mommy's actually sick, and I've got to go to bed as soon as we get home. I'm apologetic, merely I can't do anything for you tonight. I can't make dinner, or run your bath, or anything. I've just got to repose. Do you calculate you could man-age to repair your own repast tonight?" "That's OK, "she replied unconcernedly, but this didn't reassure me. The real test would come when she really wanted something. When we arrived home, I crawled behind upstairs to bed, where I arrange,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], miraculously undisturbed, for the next 6 hours.
Well, virtually undisturbed. Every now and then, I would get up from a feverish sleep to find a little saint bending over me with some goodwill attempting. A chilly, watery wash-cloth to wipe my hot brow. A brass alarm to ring whether I wanted anything. A picture she had drawn to cheer me up of a kitten basking in the sun. A "feel-good," pink bow-tied teddy bear that somebody had brought her once when she was sick,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], and in whose medicinal properties she appeared to area excellent belief. During one of her visitations, announced that I needed to go downstairs to the lavatory. Vivien solicitously helped me on with my sweater "in array to keep you lukewarm," and she in-sisted on my leaning on her ― all four feet of her ― in order to talk the stairs. When I wandered into the kitchen and out of accustomed began to put dishes away, my little princess sternly intervened me. "Mommy, you're act too much material. Go back to bed. " I meekly abode.
Throughout the evening, Vivien issued intermittent reports ashore her progress with the evening routine. "I fair made myself a salad for supper. " Or,"I'm fleeing my bath now. "The piece do resistance came by bedtime. She announced,in her best mommy-imitation voice,"I'm just going downstairs to penetrate if everything another needs to be done. Then I'm go-ing to brush my teeth,rotate out the lights and go to mattress. " I smiled to myself under the carpets.
Then Vivien produced a little writing she had made for me at cutting out pieces of colored paper and stapling them together. The first sheet peruse, "I LOVE YOU, MOMMY.