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.”


“My Daddy car. NO MOMMY.”

“This is Daddy’s car?”


“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.”


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