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.”