Little Philosopher

No one ever told me that after the "why" stage there was another, even more frustrating, stage around the corner.  It's the "What do you mean?" stage.  Christin feels that this is an appropriate question to ask in any situation.  "Christin it's time for dinner."  "What do you mean?"  "Christin you left your clothes on the floor"  "What do you mean?" "Christin did you finish your schoolwork?"  "What do you mean?".
I sometimes give an extremely long answer in hopes that I will frustrate her as much as that question frustrates me.  For example:
Me:  "Christin, it's time to brush your teeth."
Christin:  "What do you mean?"
Me:  "It is seven-thirty in the pm.  It is customary to brush you teeth at this time of day.  The reason we brush our teeth at this time is because we are about to go to bed.  If you do not remove the gunk from your teeth before going to bed it will turn into plaque.  Plaque cannot be removed by your tooth brush and must be taken care of by the dentist.  So put a pea size amount of toothpaste on your red toothbrush and brush every single part of every single tooth and your tongue and cheeks."
Usually during the lengthy explanation she interrupts several times with "Maaahhhmom" (is that the appropriate spelling for the long drawn out version of mom?  I had moooom but that made me think of a cow which made me feel badly about myself, but I digress)
 Anyway, I just keep talking and hope that one day she will grow out of the "What do you mean?" stage.

We Should

Lindsey has developed a new love for the word should.  Every time I tell her she "shouldn't" do something she replies, "I should!" in her little chipper voice that frankly is hard to argue with.  Sometimes she even switches it up and says "you should!"  Let me give you an example:

Just last week I was hiding in taking a shower.  Lindsey has decided that when I shower she should come in the bathroom and sit on the toilet and talk to me.  It's especially great when I get out and she gives me a running commentary on my body, but you so don't want to hear about that.  Anyway, the other day I opened the curtain to find the entire roll of toilet paper unrolled onto the floor.  I sighed and said, "Lindsey, you really shouldn't unroll the toilet paper."  She looked my right in the eyes and said, "You should!  It's fun."  I have to admit, she can be very convincing, it does look fun.  I may have to try it.  The trick is finding a time I can do it and frame it on the kids in perfect timing so that someone else has to roll it back up because that is not fun. 

I think she has a career in advertising.