Whistle Your Favorite Song


She wasn’t happy with her brother.  She thought he should be doing what she wanted him to be doing.  She got bossy and demanding in an attempt to bend his will. 
I explained that if he didn’t want to play with her and her fluffy unicorns, he didn’t have to play with her and it was wrong to try to force him.  It seemed that the message was received and the problem solved.  I retreated for another round of coffee.  When I returned to the front lines, she was missing.  I asked her brother if he knew where she was.  He thought she had gone upstairs.  
“Where are you?”
“I’m in my bedroom.”  
“What are you doing?”
“Just being sad.”
If that doesn’t melt your heart, nothing will.  Although I think the correct emotion was probably mad.  We enticed her out of hiding and tried to talk about her feelings.  This is not my strong suit.  “My brother made me sad.”  Once again, it looked more like mad.  While showing empathy for the very first time in his life, her brother asked “What’s your favorite song so that I can whistle it and cheer you up?”  Still grumpy, “I don’t know, I don’t have a favorite song.”  He said, “that’s ok, I don’t know how to whistle.”  

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