Please Her, Please Her Not

I don't brag that I know how to please my daughter because I know I do. Now here is one more reason I shouldn't brag after all.

Daddy went for his dental appointment later in the afternoon. I came up with an neat idea, "How about you drive down afterwards and give us a lift? She would be thrilled," I sugguested. Daddy had to kill an hour with a numb jaw and waited for me a few more minutes before I could get of the work, neither of these his favorite things to do.

Finally, I got into the car. We battled the traffic in the downtown core. It took us twice the time I would need to walk over to the building. And Daddy pulled over on a spot, illegally of course. I rushed inside the facility searching for Sienna, "Let's go, Mommy will give you a surprise," I led her to the front door of the building -- we usually exit from the back. "What's the surprise, Mommy? Is the train coming on the street?" asked she.

Well, the surprise was Sienna was not entertained by the idea of us coming to pick her up the car. Oh, no. She screamed at it. She wanted to take the green train. She went on for a while. Then I said, "I thought I would surprise you. I didn't know you would be so upset. You hurt my feelings." That seemed to have some effect. She started to complain that her finger hurt from a scratch, "oh, oh, oh, it's hurting..."

So much for my failed attempt to please my daughter.