Mean Girl House

You know those days when your kids make you feel like the world's worst, most incapable parent?  Yeah, today was one of those.  No matter what I did, it simply was NOT RIGHT.  In the process of breakfast and getting Marley ready for preschool, she'd had two loud, angry, screaming fits before school (she claimed to be "stuck on the potty" during one of them).  Then the second we walked through the door at her preschool, it was like she flipped a switch and was as happy as can be.  When I picked her up this afternoon, her teachers told me that she'd had a wonderful day.  But the second I put her in her carseat, she picked up right where she'd left off with me that morning. 

So I told her that instead of going home, I was going to drop her off at the "Mean Girl House" for the evening and come and get her later. 

*Before you accuse me of emotionally scarring my daughter,

let me say that I was only kidding.

Sort of. *

Anyway, she thought about the Mean Girl House on the five minute drive home, and whether she might like to go there. 

*I simply enjoyed the quiet.*

We pulled up to our apartment building and I went to get her out.  As I unbuckled her seatbelt ('cause she'd conveniently forgotten how to do that on the way home...), she looked at me with a very somber expression and asked,

"So, what COLOR is the Mean Girl House?"

You win, funny girl.  You win!