When "No" Actually Means "I Love You"

Yesterday, I was driving Kaia home from daycare and we were doing the usual routine, which is her either a) asking for Mommy, b) asking for juice, c) asking for songs or d) asking to get out.

Sometimes, she'll mix things up and throw in a "Tickle, tickle," which is code for me to reach back and squeeze her knee, which in turn makes her giggle. Usually we get two or three reps of that, and then she says, "No."

In such a case no means mostly no, though she will still giggle if I repeat offend (which will be promptly succeeded by another "No!").

So we're on the road and have just gone through a round of Wheels on the Bus and a "tickle, tickle," (which she pronounces perfectly, I might add) when I said, "Kaia, I love you."

She said, "No," and shook her head.

I said, "Yes. I love you."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

I gave up after about 10 of them. Today on the drive home, same story. We had to make a special trip to the bank so I could get movie money (date night with the wife -- Couples Retreat, which is a solid meh/renter). We did all the songs I could think of (Old MacDonald; If You're Happy and You Know It; Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star; The Wheels on the Bus; The Itsy, Bitsy Spider and Row Your Boat). After every song, btw, she claps her hands and yells "Yay!" as loud as she can.

We got to the bank, did the ATM routine, then started the final leg. Again, I said to her, "Kaia, I love you."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

Rinse, repeat. I didn't give up and neither did she. A lesser man would be demoralized and defeated, but given my past life, I'm used to rejection. I did quit the game when we turned down our street.

Steph was already home, and according to her text, "starving," so pretty much as soon as I walked in the door, I started dinner. Breakfast. Scrambled cheese eggs, bacon and toast. It's one of the few meals we can count on Kaia eating a lot of. Got everything made, served up the girls (Steph opted to have her eggs on a fiber-rich English muffin with bacon piled on), and then filled my plate. I sat down on the end of the table, Kaia between Steph and I, and started eating. And watching Kaia eat.

When she actually eats with some enthusiasm, it's something that bears paying attention to. Tonight, she was in an extra special good mood, so half the time when she'd finish chewing, she'd look at one or the other of us and smile.

After one such smile, I said, "Kaia, I love you."

She looked at me and said, "Luv you."