I Need to Make a Phone Call

It hurt like the dickens, whatever dickens are. My dear Clara spilled some of her hot soup all over her arm and part of her leg. She was just trying to sit closer to me by moving her bowl, as I was up getting some ice to put in our soup. After the nervous drama of putting much of her body in the sink to douse her with cold water (the soup was scalding hot) we discovered it was her tender arm, where she had burned it in the summer, where most of the pain was coming from. She was so brave. Every 30 seconds I put a newly ice-water soaked paper towel on her red skin. Once the crying started to fade, she said I need to make a phone call. I got the phone and dialed her daddy. At first she couldn't tell him what happened as it just made her cry too much as she relived the story. A little later she was able to give him play by play. It was as if she needed to talk to him so she knew he was not going to worry too much.

A Little Lesson:
Well of course the obvious lesson is, don't let your little children attempt to move their bowls of hot soup on their own. Perhaps just as important, I got another glimpse of the tender heart of my Clara who loves her daddy so much.