On the way home from preschool today Jillson announced that she wants Santa to bring her a purple stethoscope. (Great. We are done with our Christmas shopping and let me just say that there is not a stethoscope of any kind, purple or otherwise, in our stash.) She then asked me if I wanted to be a doctor when I grew up, and I said that sounded like a nice idea. I asked her if she, too, would like to be a doctor, and she said, “Oh no. I want to be a sick person when I grow up.”
While watching Sesame Street
Jillson: Mommy, I think it's time to start cooking Christmas dinner.
Me: Well, it's still a bit early. Let's wait until Meme is here and it is Christmas. We can all cook together then.
J: Mooooooom. You have to say Kiki, too. You have to say "when Meme and Kiki are here." You keep saying "Meme," but Kiki is coming, too. You have to say "Meme AND Kiki."
Me: Okay. We will make Christmas dinner together when Meme and Kiki are here.
J: Right. [Pause.] But Kiki doesn't cook.