Little L has always been my tough little cookie. Where C wears her heart and her emotions on her sleeve and her face, Little L is harder to read, harder to reach. C will bend over backwards to get approval and to feel like she’s pleasing those around her. Little L lives to please… herself.
I always assumed that her lack of need of external validation meant that she was tougher and less sensitive than her sister.
I’m slowly learning that I was wrong.
The other day, a rainy Saturday, we all huddled under a blanket to watch Up. Even if you haven’t seen the movie, you might have heard that it’s not the most uplifting flick out there. I have yet to meet a grown-up who’s been able to watch the opening scene dry-eyed.
Towards the end of the movie the main characters have to say goodbye to a friend and out of the blue, completely unexpectedly, Little L started wailing. Not just one quiet tear, but real, honest to goodness wails, with tears and sobs. She huddled in my arms and empathized with the movie characters.
I’m a movie crier. I just didn’t think little kids could be too.