Gentle rains and rumbling thunder

This morning, like every morning, my daughter Zoya descended blurry-eyed down the stairs and onto the couch. She almost always wakes up first and we snuggle under the blanket together to grab a few minutes of cuddles before the rest of the family comes down.

She loves to read so she picked up a book and started reading to me. I gently~~gently, I tell you!~~demonstrated the correct way to pause at the period between sentences, as she was rushing through them and stringing them all together.

Sweet, charming Zoya immediately became a brooding, darkened mess. Her hair fell into her face. She put a scowl onto it. She grabbed the couch pillows and a blanket and headed under the table. She growled, she hissed. She wore this mood for a whole half hour. At least. It may have been longer.

I made my case for reconciliation and then let it go. One cannot spend too many hours being wrapped up in this kind of thing. I proceeded to make myself breakfast, and Wolfgang came downstairs in due time to eat as well. We had a grand time while Zoya continued to brood until a different activity diverted her attention and she snapped out of it almost immediately.

Several hours later, as she read a book aloud while I folded laundry next to her, Zoya matter-of-factly explained to me, "Mom, I'm pausing at the end of the sentence, because that's what you do when there's a period."

Sigh.