surrounded

I am pedantic, and torture poor R unintentionally with my persnickety lifestyle. Imagine her horror when L started doing the same thing. Now imagine her horror the other night when she asked Rr if she was going to read a story, and Rr replied,"No, Daddy read story. In the back bedroom." Still a week off being two, mind you.

I found R shivering under the covers because it had sunk in, finally, that she is surrounded.