The Two-Year-Old Always Wins.

Flipping through my blog, I realize that I don’t share too many stories about Caroline. But I really should. Because the kid is hilarious. Basically my entire personal Facebook account consists of funny Caroline quotes and stories. So, here’s a post-Christmas Caroline story for you all, too long for Facebook, that I haven’t yet shared anywhere:

I had gotten Caro a dollhouse for Christmas. Not just any dollhouse. A giant dollhouse. The size happened purely by accident. I’m not so good with the measuring and the planning. I just ordered a dollhouse that I thought looked pretty sweet. Which it is, but it’s also so huge that I could basically quit paying rent and just live in it.

The enormity of said dollhouse meant that I had to rearrange Caro’s entire room to find the wall space to fit the thing. I had pretty much managed it (by getting rid of some furniture), except for the problem of her stuffed animals. Any parent will vouch for me on this issue. The damn things just multiply. I swear they are breeding in there overnight. I don’t even want to know how it happens but I am positive that it does. No kid needs half as many stuffed animals as they actually have. I can’t even remember where half of them came from, which only strengthens my theory that something twisted is going on in there while our backs are turned. (Half of them are rabbits, okay? Case closed.)

I digress. So my solution to the stuffed animal problem was to rig up one of those Pet Nets, to stash the suckers up near the ceiling, out of the way. I was struggling to put it up one morning when Caro noticed what I was up to.

“Mama, what are you doing?” she asked suspiciously.

“I’m putting up a hammock for your friends to live in,” I said cheerfully. “This way they can look down at you and say, ‘hey Caro!’ and whenever you want to play with one, I’ll get it down for you.”

Her bottom lip started to quiver. “No, Mama,” she wailed. “I want my friends to live down here with me!”

“But honey there’s just no room,” I tried to reason with her. “I don’t want to have to get rid of any of your friends.”

This only set her off. “NO!!” she screeched. “Cannot get rid of my friends, no!” She snatched up the box to the Pet Net and pointed furiously at a forlorn-looking hippopotamus sitting in it among the other stuffed animals. “See!” she yelled accusingly. “Look at him! He looks sad! I don’t want my friends to be sad, no!!”

(To the extreme right is the hippo who screwed me. To be fair, he does look a tad miserable.)

We went around in circles for a little bit, but, in the end, my strong-willed child won out. She and that hippo outfoxed me.  This time.

Hmph.  I wasn’t using the changing table, anyway.

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