Compassion in the younger years

A forgotten mouse trip hidden away became a spot of fascination of my three year old.

Snap!

Some well deserved tears followed.

I removed the trap from her hand, and verified that she was going to be fine. That didn't stop the noise immediately, though.


In a flood of compassion, her two older sisters rush to her side, kneeling to help her. I was shoo-ed away. Seeing they had the task well in hand, I continued making lunch. Leaving them to their own devices.

The oldest hugged her, and said to the injured party "ah, you poor thing". I was feeling like this was a heart warming moment. I was so proud of them.

Suddenly, a knowing look passed between the two eldest. Something of tremendous importance was about to take place. I could just tell.

Conspiratorially, one said to the other "Let's count her fingers to see if she still has five." There was a stunningly mischieveous look on each of their faces.

Yeah, yeah. Multi-tasking at its' finest. What looked like compassion, had quickly turned into curiosity as to the actual effects of a mouse trap on a hand. A mere science experiment.

Only at my house.