Oh the humanity!

Today I discovered that we have some very compassionate little girls. Maybe not with each other, but towards us anyway. (I wonder how long that will last?)

Compassion Story #1: [WARNING: some mildly graphic content]
This morning I was in the bathroom waxing my under-arms. [Pause to wince.] Lacie was way too enthralled by this mysterious process to heed my suggestions that she might find interest elsewhere (e.g. "Get out!"). Being fairly new to this, I am not yet hardened enough to not cry out in pain while ripping the hairs out by the roots from that rather sensitive area. In fact, I usually make Mark rip the first strip off, being too cowardly to start it off myself. Such was the scene this morning, but with Lacie witnessing the process.
After that first rip and consequential scream, Lacie looked at me in horror and asked what I was doing & why. I tried explaining while continuing on in my process, but was interrupted by Lacie yelling,
"Don't do it, Mom! Don't hurt yourself! Don't do it! Don't do it!"
First I kinda laughed, thinking it was so sweet. But I quickly realized I had better stop because she was almost in tears over hearing me yelp.
So cute, and yet, a little bit annoying seeing as I was only partly done!


Compassion Story #2:
I was sitting on the couch, reading a book to the girls when Mark came up and thought he'd be funny nibbling on Lacie's foot. She didn't find it funny. She started crying and told me Daddy had bitten her.
The background on this is that biting has been a small problem for Lacie recently. It hasn't happened very often, but when it has we always tell her sternly, "We don't bite." Then she gets hot sauce in her mouth to remind her mouth to behave.
So after Mark bit Lacie I turned to him with the same, though mock, sternness and said, "Daddy, we don't bite. Do you need hot sauce to remind you?" Yeah... maybe I shouldn't have said that in front of the kids. In my defense, I don't think it's fair to have double-standards. Anyway. Mark immediately apologized and then even agreed that maybe he did need some hot sauce. Oh did that ever set the girls off!
"Is Daddy going to get hot sauce?"
"Is he going to have hot sauce or fire?"
"Are you going to give it to him?"
"Is Daddy in trouble?"
and on and on. So Mark dutifully goes to the kitchen and gives himself some hot sauce. Then he proceeds to contort his face to show the pain and suffering involved in this act. Meanwhile the kids jump off the couch and RUN to him saying,
"Drink some milk! Drink some milk!"
Poor Daddy. I can't be sure, but judging on how fast Lacie ran to her father's aid I think it's safe to say her foot was feeling much better.