I've just been asked the question,
"Mommy. Have you heard of a butt doctor?"
Hesitantly, I entered into the conversation, "No. I can't say that I have. Have you?"
"Yes. In my dreams while I was sleeping."
Ella didn't have anything else to say -- which was fine by me.
Dave and I often have to tip-toe into conversations with Ella, never quite sure where the conversations may go.
Two nights ago, as Dave strapped Ella into her booster seat in the car, Ella looked right into his eyes - they were practically nose to nose -- and said "I'm going to control you."
Dave became uncomfortable, but I was like "hmmm..." I often tell myself, especially in those moments where I am defaulting to my typical soft-spoken mode, "You are raising little women. Is this how you want them to behave as full-grown women?" It's often enough to give me a jolt of courage to behave in a more assertive or sane fashion. So when Ella told Dave she planned to control him I thought, "well, we are headed in a pretty good direction with this femi-nazi training regimen I have instituted."
As it turned out, she wasn't applying my femi-nazi training. Ella was hoping to turn Dave into a robot and use a pretend remote control to make him do what she wanted him to.
On second thought, as I re-read the previous sentence, maybe the femi-nazi training IS sticking. ;)