the tickle in my tummy

We were having a rough morning the other day, and we hadn't even had breakfast yet. I woke up with a tickle in my throat, unsure whether or not it was going to turn into a full-blown sore throat. I heard Evie and Eloise squabbling about something, and Evie switched into her bossy voice and said, "You just lost Cinderella." (The Cinderella doll belongs to Evie, and sometimes she sort of lords it over Eloise, taking away the privilege of playing with the doll if Eloise won't cooperate with Evie's plans or ideas.) Mr. B and I quickly jumped in and told Evie she couldn't play with any dolls or the dollhouse all day. This is a major punishment in our house. Anyway, Mr. B left for work, and I was getting breakfast ready for the girls. Evie began telling Eloise that the Little People (Fisher Price) are not dolls. I wasn't sure the point of the conversation, but I continued to listen. Evie continued to explain that Little People are not dolls, because they are fat, and Eloise echoed that statement. I quickly explained that Little People really are dolls, that they are not fat (they just have super short legs), and that calling people or things fat is unkind and can be hurtful. Breakfast was ready, so I brought it to the table, and we bowed our heads to pray. This was Eloise's prayer:

Dear Father, Thank you for the wonderful day. And help us to be kind and show others how to be kind. And Evie lost dolls for the whole life. And we were talking about Little People. And they are not fat. In Jesus' Name, Amen

I definitely had to stifle a laugh. But then I suddenly realized why Evie was insisting that Little People were not dolls: she wanted to play Little People, even though she'd lost dolls and dollhouse for the day. I was soft, and I let them play Little People off and on for the rest of the day. Eloise had another cute prayer at lunch time:

Dear Heavenly Father,

Lord, please be with all the people in the whole...the whole...the whole...states. All the states...Because some of the people in the states are sick. And my mom has a tickle in her tummy.

Amen

So, the tickle was in my throat, rather than in my tummy, but I thought it was sweet of her to pray for me nonetheless. If I had a Cinderella doll, I'd let her play with it.