Responsible Dogs

Let me start by noting that Jane is on a bit of a roll this week.  She has continued with near-hourly requests that I order her a baby sister, and responded with outright fury when she realized I'd actually given away almost all of our baby things ("Mommy!  I'm so mad at you.  You should not give our baby things away.  The baby sister is not going to have any bottles now!  She needs diapers!  She needs pacifiers!") 

She did, however, take a brief break from the topic of the hoped-for baby sister to engage in the following discussion:
Jane:  "Mommy, remember when I was home with Margot and we were by ourselves without any grown-ups here?" 
Me:  "What are you talking about?  You and Margot have never been left here with out any grown-ups."

Jane:  "Yes, we were."

Me:  "Who was watching you, then?"

Jane:  "Margot."

Me:  "Who was watching Margot?"

Jane:  "Claire."

Me:  "Ok.  Who was watching Claire?"

Jane:  "Um . . . Ollie?"  (Note:  Ollie is a dog.)

Me:  "Uh-huh.  And who was watching Ollie?"

Jane (triumphantly):  "Hugo!"  (Note:  Hugo is also a dog - although he is probably qualified to watch Ollie.)

Me:  "So, who was watching Hugo?" 

Jane:  "The dishwasher."

Me:  [silence]

Because, really - how am I supposed to respond to that?

Fashionista Strikes Again

Claire:  "Mommy?  Have you ever described me by saying "She lives for fashion"?"

Me:  "Um . . . I'm not sure I've used those exact words."

Claire:  "Huh.  Don't you think you should?"

Know Thy Sister

Jane's first comment upon receiving her newest accessory:  "Wow.  Margot is going to be really jealous of this pink cast."

Margot's first comment upon seeing Jane after we got home from the hospital:  "Jane, congratulations!  That's a really cool pink cast."

Does that kid know her sister or what?

(Jane's second comment after getting the cast, by the way, was to announce to the doctor that "this pink cast will still match my red birthday dress."  Even in the throes of broken-arm pain, one must not lose sight of one's fashion priorities.)

Catalog Shopping

In what may be her most original request yet, Jane just asked me to buy her a baby from the Company Store catalog.

Jane (holding catalog open to a page with two babies):  "Mommy?  See these babies? With their mouths open?"
Me:  "Yes, aren't they cute?"
Jane:  "Can you buy me one of these?  They can fit pacifiers in their mouths."  (Note:  the failure of many of Jane's dolls to "fit pacifiers in their mouths" is an unending source of disappointment for her.)
Me:  "Those are real babies - they aren't for sale.  They're just showing the different baby clothes that you can buy from this catalog."
Jane:  "They have a lot of them in here.  Can you buy me one of them for a baby sister?"
Me:  "Jane, we can't buy a baby from a catalog."
Jane:  "Look!!  Here are two more.  Can you buy me one of these?"
Me:  "No, we can't buy a real baby."
Jane:  "When I turn four can we order one?  For a little sister?  Who fits a pacifier in her mouth?"
Margot (walking into room):  "Jane, you can't order a real baby from a catalog."
Jane: "Margot!  I know that.  Mama has to order it for me."

(Not) Two Peas in a Pod

On our way to dinner the other night, we passed a billboard with an ad for cancer research:
Claire:  "Mommy, is cancer the one where the cells just go crazy reproducing themselves again and again and try to take over someone's whole body?"
Me:  "Yes, pretty much."
Claire:  "Well, how do they do that?  Does cancer have a brain? How many cells do there have to be before you can see the cancer?  What does cancer look like?"
Me:  [lengthy explanation of how, as is so often the case, I don't know the answer to most of these questions]
Margot:  "I don't like cancer."
Claire:  "Well, Margot, cancer is bad - but it is also so interesting.  Mom, can we talk about cancer the whole time at dinner?"
Margot:  "I don't want to talk about cancer!  Can we please talk about love?"

Future Lawyer?

Me:  "'Jane, can you move this crib and these baby dolls out of my room?"
Jane:  "There's only one baby in there."
Me:  "Well, could you move her out of my room?"
Jane:  "It's not a girl, it's a boy."
Me:  "Ok.  Could you please move him out of my room?"
Jane:  "No.  He needs to stay in his crib."
Me:  "I mean, can you move him and his crib out of my room?"
Jane:  "Mommy!  He will cry if his crib isn't in here."
Me: [silence]

This is clearly the child of two lawyers.