Headaches of the Impaired

They say that mimicry is a form of flattery.

If that's so, Grace is nothing but complimentary to me.

Or just lazy. And conniving.

As she hops around on one leg or says that her foot is too tired to take her breakfast bowl to the sink, I'm wondering if this is how I'm perceived.

This morning, as I was trying to convince her to change out of her mismatched pj's, I relayed how I needed her help.

Me: Grace, don't you ever want my foot to get better?

G: No.

Me: So you'd rather I be pushed around in a wheelchair all day, laying around, and never be able to drive you to the park or dance class?

G: Hmmmmmm.........(long pause)...........

Finally, she runs out and comes back with clothes for me to put on her. JACKPOT.

(Grace in her mommy attire)