Apparently it’s not my car.

Yesterday as we were leaving daycare, Adele yells out, “My car!” when she sees my car.

Of course I respond with something silly like, “Oh, you goose! That’s actually my car!” This is silly because you should never argue with a toddler. You will always lose. Always.

She looks at me and says, “No, my car.” I respond: “Haha, you really are silly! It is my car!”

There’s a little bit of silence as I push buttons on the clicker and open up the back of the car. As I lift her into her seat (she still has not learned to actually climb into her seat – she just plays in the crap on the floor) she decides to take a different approach.

“My Daddy car, no Mommy.”  (Translation: “This is Daddy’s car, not yours, Mommy.”

“Huh?”

“My Daddy car. NO MOMMY.”

“This is Daddy’s car?”

“Yeah!”

“No, it’s actually my car. In fact, Daddy doesn’t even really like my car – it’s too big for him. He likes small cars!”

“My Daddy car. No Mommy!”

“Okay, Adele, whatever you say.”

In a tiny voice so I can get the last word (ha!), “But it’s still my car.”

“No.”

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