Out of the Mouths of Babes

Celeste and I have been indulging in our usual power games over getting dressed in the morning for a while now, but today she used some of my own tricks against me. I'm so proud. And concerned.

Imagine the scene...

ME (pointing at several piles of socks): Right - no fussing about. You have a choice between this pile, this pile or this pile. Which ones do you want to put on?

CELESTE ignores me, snatches up a pair of tights from the sock draw and her trousers from the floor and turns to face me with a stern face, determined to not let me control the morning's sock agenda.

CELESTE: You have choice Daddy: trousers and tights. Which put on me first?

ME: *giggling*

CELESTE: No fussing Daddy!

ME: *giggling hysterically*

Battleground: Footwear

EDIT: Further cheekiness at the Sainsburys Cafe today! When the nice lady comes up with the sauce sachets, Celeste stole them all and put three carefully in front of me.

CELESTE: Here your choices Daddy. No fussing! Pick one now.

Celeste is a strict custodian of the sauces