The Little One cried at bedtime. It was quite unusual, typically she falls right asleep. The wife went up to check on her. I received the summary a couple minutes later.
The wife had gone into the bedroom and seen The Little One sitting up in bed.
"What happened, [Little One], why are you crying?
"I had a bad dweam," The Little One said.
"Oh, no. What was it about?"
She pointedly lifted and opened her hand so she could count on her fingers like we do when we list reasons she can't have another [insert toy/sweet here].
"Thwee things. One. I was the only one left on the earth. Two. I was going to die. And thwee. I was thinking about Chicken Licken."
"Wow. Is there anything I could do for you?" Mama replied.
"I'd weally like a cough dwop. I think the fever's kicking in, Mom."
She got a cough drop, though I think she meant Chicken Little.
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