This morning, Petra wandered over to me and said, “Do you love me?” (We’ve been listening to old music recently, including the song Do You Love Me (Now that I Can Dance)? so she’s been asking that a lot.)
I said, “yes.”
Then she asked, “Do you hate me sometimes?”
“No, never.” I said, “I always love you.”
“I hate you sometimes.” She said, “It’s like love/hate, love/hate.” This while flipping her hand backwards and forwards to demonstrate.
“Fair enough,” I said. “I suppose I sometimes do things you don’t like, or stop you doing things you want to do.”
“Yes,” she said, “sometimes you don’t let me have chocolate.” And with that she wandered off.
It’s a relief to find that my sins are so minor. At least for now.