Yesterday was a Bad Day®. Like the kind of Bad Day® where everyone in the house is just impossible and miserable and under-rested. Caroline was feeling a bit under the weather and I was feeling like loading up baby sister and getting us all ready might send me to the loony bin, so she stayed home from preschool. And by "stayed home from preschool," I mean "drove her mother absolutely insane to the point of actually considering walking out and never coming home."
I'd fished an intact roll of toilet paper out of the toilet, argued with her for two hours on why she needed to nap and how naps are not naps if you take them standing up with your eyes open, had a conversation about where it's ok and not ok to pee (note: she says it's not ok to pee on the roof or in the sky), etc. So when she was still being difficult about something I can't remember, well, I pulled the pointless and useless "I am the mom so I am the boss" card.
She countered with, "Well I am a big girl, so I can make some rules."
I told her, "I am a bigger girl and I'm the mom and I'm in charge."
She grimaced and groaned and bent over and gave me the evilest look she could conjure up and said, "Mother, you are STRETCHING ME OUT!"