Little Me

I never understood peer pressure.  David often tells me that my immunity to peer pressure is my “super power” a quality that makes me invincible.  I never cared enough what other people thought or frankly felt the need to belong bad enough that peer pressure ever affected me. As a matter of fact the more somebody pushed me to do something the less likely I was to do it — I’m still this way.  It infuriates David because I cannot be cajoled or persuaded to do anything that I fundamentally don’t want to do.  Our ongoing feud about my refusal to drink coffee with him will be an argument that our children will be talking about years after we both die.  David insists and I resist.

I’ve always been rather proud of this characteristic. I suppose I’ve always felt that it was a sign of my personal strength and confidence.  David has always thought that it was more a reflection of my pride and stubbornness. Either way, it is a quality that has served me well and I have no intention of shedding it any time soon — that is until today.

Lucy has a lose tooth.  When I say “lose” I mean she has a tooth that is defying physics by continuing to be lodged in her mouth.  We cannot seem to figure out how this tooth has managed to stay in for as long as it has.  She refuses to pull it.  She refuses to let us pull it.  This morning as the five of us were lazily sprawled on the couch I declared with authority “Lucy, pull that tooth today!!” David, quickly chimed in with his booming Daddy voice, “YES, YES, PULL THE TOOTH!!” We were trying to achieve a sort of festive momentum that would propel her into yanking the tooth out before she swallowed it by accident.  Lucy, feeling the pressure of family scurried into a corner and yelled “I CANNOT BE TALKED INTO PULLING MY TOOTH!! AS LONG AS YOU KEEP ASKING ME I WON’T DO IT!!”  and then silence.

I threw my head back and roared with laughter.  God is funny.

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