"Oorrrrannnges!!"

You know what's not fun? Aside from making your own 7-month-old cry because you can't make her bottle fast enough? Making someone else's child cry.

The woman who babysits Addy while I work is my best friend's big sister, and like I've said twenty thousand times before on here I couldn't ask for a better situation. An added bonus is her hilarious kids, who perpetually make me ten minutes late to work thanks to their hilarious questions and stories and all-around-adorable selves. These kids make me so excited to reach that stage with Addy, when you walk in the door and are greeted with "Look at this!" "Watch that!" And the proclamations of big-girl-dom, explanations from Lily, the middle-child, for why she's no longer a baby--oh, those are my favorite.

Today as I'm getting Adelyn ready to leave after work, strapping her into her car-seat, my babysitter jokingly asks if I want to take the three-year-old with me, too. (We're buddies, she and I.)

"Of course!" I say. Naively. "You wanna come, too, Lily?"

And then Lily says she'll go get her car seat.

"Well, how about you come over next week, Lily? After I can get some of your favorite foods and have something fun planned?"

Then the tears start. I pick her up, give her a hug. She doesn't stop crying. I've teased her with the idea of an adventure and then meanly yanked it away.

"How do I fix it???" I beg the babysitter, my go-to parenting guru, to stop this cruel thing that I've done.

See--what she tells me, and what I never would have really thought of--you can't expect a three-year-old to do anything but take every word to heart.

"What's your favorite food? So I can get it for you at the grocery store for next time?" I ask, hoping it'll distract her.

"Ooooorrrrannggess!" She says between sobs.

And then I have to leave, because Addy needs a nap. And I felt terrible.

(You better believe Lily will be coming home with me next week, if her mother allows. And I will have a case of oranges waiting for her.)

I have so much to learn about children.