Today the 5 yr old “C” was talking about Pockets (our dog). She loves to imagine that Pockets has a mom and a dad and brothers and sisters dogs that she really misses.
C then went on to say that I am Pockets’ mom now and that I can give her milk (from my breasts).
Yeah, so that was my Tuesday.
5 yr old discovers that our puppy, Pockets, had chewed her coloring book. She immediately goes up to the dog, looks down at her and shakes her fist.
"I’m mad at you, Pockets. So mad at you." Stomps feet. Shakes fist.
Gets shaker from toy bin to shake in dog’s face. Dog cowers away.
In Target and the 5 y.o. puts something back when asked. I tell her “good girl.” She acts all affronted and responds “Good girl? I am not a dog.”
"First I will try to be an actor. If that doesn’t work out, I will be a writer. If not that, an archaeologist. If not any of those, I will just be poor."
The 9 yr old’s career goals.
The joke’s on her. None of those make any money.