Little Pepper Feelings

She always finds Beckam's bottle.
Climbing in Ferguson canyon

Last night driving, Pepper whining in the back seat, her shrill voice scraping down the back of my head.

"Be Quiet Pepper!!"

Well...actually, if I'm being completely honest, what I said was,

"Shut-UP Pepper!"

Yes.  Not one of my prouder Mom moments.  I know I'm not supposed to say shut-up to my kids.  Somehow I thought it would get the point across better.  It didn't.
My rear view mirror is pointed at a sharp angle, so I can see both her and Beckam.
I peak up just in time to see her face melt and she wimpers,

"Mom, you are really hurting my little Pepper feelings right now..."

Home-made poncho at the REAL game.

I clamp a hand over my smile so she doesn't see it.

"I'm sorry Pepper.  I shouldn't have said that to you."

"I'm not very good at this right now, Mom.  I am not very good at being this girl."

She looks sincerely lost.  She looks out the window for an answer in the fast-wizzing world, and finding none she looks back to me.
Everyday.  She needs my reassurance everyday.
Pepper is my most sensitive child, absolutely.  Like a long, slender champagne flute, she is transparent, and easily tipped over.  She is also a beautiful vessel, and whatever liquid she holds, becomes magical.