After a very frustratingly short nap today, from which Elise awoke crying, I went into her room to get her out of her crib. I walk in to find her standing, waiting to be rescued from her misery. She stops crying long enough to ask me, "where's Poppa?"
To which I answer, "at work", as I prepare to lift her up. Her response?
The wailing and gnashing of teeth, all the while falling to her knees and moaning in great despair, "Poppa, Poppa, where'sa Poppa?"
Ahhhhh, to be loved.
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