Drama Queen

The post-graduation honeymoon is over, Peanuts, and J is back at the hospital full-force doing a rotation in the ER. He has been working nights recently. After Little One gets tucked in, it seems a little empty around here, now that we've gotten so used to having him home by dinner.
But I figure, if I can't fight it, I'll roll with it! Watermelon and popcorn for dinner! And since he's gone anyways, might as well make it complete, and watch some 1950's sappy movies to suck any lingering testosterone out of the house. Partly I just adore the clothes and the fancy set hair, but I do love a good swoon, Peanuts. It's all nearly as good as ice cream.
But last night I was SO tired I shut my laptop before my grainy netflix film was even over. This morning, while Little One was reading Her books, I opened it to check my email, and "Love is a Many Splendored Thing" popped up where it had left off. The violins swelled. The chorus reverberated with soprano. Jennifer Jones forlornly dragged her gorgeous high-heels across a windswept hilltop. Little One was entranced. She doesn't watch TV, we don't even have TV, so it might have been the magical moving pictures. But I think it was the scene. She identified with it. "That is how I feel when Mommy won't let me have a cracker!" She probably thought.
She jumped up from Her seat and climbed into my lap. She gasped. She stared. She pointed and asked, "Mommy? What?"
"Well, She's climbing the hill to the tree, see the tree?" She murmured with awe, "tree-ee". The actress collapsed on the ground and began sobbing. Little One gasped. "Oh! Mommy!" "Uh, yes. She's crying. See? She's feeling a little sad today, because she misses her friend. Sometimes we cry when we feel sad."
Little One wrapped Her arms around Her chest like the leading lady and said reverently, "Oooooh. Saa-aad." The credits began to roll, so I explained that the lady would feel better soon, closed the laptop, and tried to interest Little One in a puzzle. But it was no use. She spent the rest of the morning dragging Her feet across the floor slowly, draping Herself over various pieces of furniture, and groaning with the pain of a broken heart. "Oh no. Oooooohhhh Nononooooooooo!" Bringing Her hand to Her cheek. "Oh no. Ahhhhh! Sa-aaaad. Saa-aaad!" She "Oh, no-ed", "Oh, sad-ed", gasped, sighed, and fake cried Herself through the rest of the morning until nap. It appears I went to far. The estrogen levels in this place have reached dangerous proportions. I hope J gets a new shift soon. Otherwise, I half-expect Little One to be reciting Scarlett O'Hara by lunch time.