Once upon a time I was lying on the floor, watching Sesame Street. At least, I think it was Sesame Street. Barry walked into the room. I wonder what it looked like from his eyes... me, there, on the floor, my hands under my head, my braid sticking out from behind my head... spread across the floor... the perfect pulling rope.
Either way, he pulled it.
Hard.
I screamed really loud.
I still wonder why he felt like pulling it, and how his 3 year old self managed to put SO much strength into that yank!
Granted, his 2 year old self used to find amusement by lifting up the front of the really big couch, so maybe I should wonder about that before wondering about the thought process behind yanking on my braid. I'm sure it was a very tempting looking rope.
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