"Audrey stop it."
"Grrr! Audrey Renae, knock" *SLAM* "it off!"
*Stomp, stomp, stomp!*
I wrenched the door open to find my little girl chortling as she ran to her bed. I followed her and got down on my knees to talk to her.
"Audrey, I don't want you to slam the door like that. Henry can't get in when the door is closed, he's too little."
"Audrey," warning tone, "I asked you not to slam the door."
Audrey tries, mostly, to catch my serious tone and stops laughing.
Here is where I went wrong: "Please don't slam the door, it's not funny."
I watched the smile spread across my little girl's face and she dared a little giggle.
"Audrey it's not funny. You need to listen when I tell you things."
"Audrey, wipe that smile off your face!"
Audrey obediently bows her head, raises her hand and slowly wipes her mouth.
At that point I nearly lost it. Struggling not to laugh, I must have looked like I swallowed a lemon dipped in tabasco sauce;
my face beet red, my mouth puckered and twisted to one side. After a moment, Audrey looked up and, seeing my expression, started laughing. I don't know if she was laughing because she knew she had me, or if my face looked that ridiculous.