I’m in the living room with Sophia. Bella comes in asking for help. “Switch. Switch,” she says, tugging at her dress.
“Do you want to take your dress off? Change clothes?” I ask, not understanding.
“No!” Instant tantrum, rolling on the floor and wailing.
I stand up, “Ok. Calm down. Show me. What do you want?” More rolling and wailing.
“Light.” she finally musters.
“Oh. You want me to turn on the light for you? Ok which light do you want me to turn on?” She leads me into the bedroom and stands on her tiptoes but still can’t reach the light switch.
“Bella, if you bring your stool over here, you can stand on it and I bet you can reach the switch and turn it on by yourself.”
“Oh.” She cheerfully fetches her little stool, climbs up and flips the switch. “I did it myself!” she proudly exclaims.
Later, much flashing on and off of the light in her bedroom.
“Great,” says Dom, “Now she’ll turn it on in the middle of the night.”
“Then we’ll have a talk about not waking up Sophia. But now I don’t have to do it for her.”
