The Little Bad Wolf

The big bad wolf is very popular in our house. Books including big bad wolves are the ones Sarah most frequently choses to have me read aloud, and for the past few days she has been pretending to be a wolf. She is the little bad wolf. I am drafted into the role of the big bad wolf (I assure you that the little bad wolf is actually capable of a lot more destruction than the big bad wolf. Look at my living room at 5:30 p.m. and you will understand). The little bad wolf huffs, and puffs, and watch out: don't stand too close our you'll be splattered with spit. Her huffing and puffing is very, let's say, moist. Away blows the stove, the fridge, the garage. In the morning she flattens the neighbor's house to the south, and after her afternoon nap, say goodbye to the neighbors who live to the north. Our own house is blown down at least 27 times daily. But, being the sweet toddler that she is, my daughter is most happy to rebuild any complicated structure in 15 seconds flat, and everyone is able to go on with their regular lives.