Last night, there was a bit of a crisis at our house. Wendy had gone to bed a few hours earlier, and had been sleeping peacefully, when I heard her start shrieking & crying in a panicked & very upset voice. I was laying on the couch trying to sleep (thank you, heartburn) and went to check on her. She was all sweaty & hot, with tears pouring from her pretty blue eyes, and she said, "Worm boken! That touble!"
In Wendy-speak, she was telling me that her Glow-worm was broken. And that is definitely trouble, because her Glow-worm sings her back to sleep whenever she wakes in the night. I took it from her, pushed the button, and heard the mournful, discordant song of dying batteries. I asked her if she wanted me to fix it, and she started crying harder. "Worm boken! Worm too boken!" I asked if she wanted Daddy to fix it, and she said, "Yesh. Daddy fik it. Daddy fik worm."
James was working upstairs, even though it was nearly midnight. (The man puts in a LOT of hours. Hours at work, hours at home, very little sleep.) I asked if he'd come downstairs, and he did. He came to the rescue, rounding up 3 AA batteries from somewhere and a Phillip's screwdriver to open the battery compartment, and went to work on the "boken worm." He got it all reassembled, and when it was working, he went to deliver it to Wendy.
She immediately grabbed it & pushed the button to see if it worked. Then she looked up at her Daddy with relief & joy, and said, "Tanks!"
He really is a Super Dad.