Each day before we head out the door to pick up the big girls at school, I go quietly into Grant’s room and wake him up. Then, put on his socks, shoes, and a jacket before waking up Harper, who likes to nap until the last possible second before heading out the door.
This agitates Grant, and he doesn’t hesitate to let me know. For weeks now, he’ll cry and moan, saying the same thing over and over. Something I have not been able to figure out, which only infuriates him more. “Coppa Wayu!!!!!” he howls over and over again, growing more frustrated each time he says it and I don’t understand.
But, today was different.
“Coppa Wayuuuuuu!” he called out, and just as he did a little voice called out from upstairs, “I’ll be right there, Grant.”
Harper had understood him, though I could not. What he’d been wanting, what he’d been crying all this time is,
“Harper, where are you?”
|Harper, with a protective arm around G|