When Clementine woke up yesterday morning, I suggested we walk down to the Safeway and get some milk, since, having just returned from vacation, the fridge was near empty. She reminded me that it was Saturday, and we could go to the Farmer’s Market. This was astonishing to me, as it seems like only days ago she had absolutely no sense of time (wait, I think I just…never mind). Our trip to the market ended up including a visit to LakeFest, the annual street party on Lakeshore, and an overly long turn in the largest bouncy house I have ever seen. By the time we set off for home, we were both hot, tired and grumpy. The only way I got her home was reminding her that we had a birthday party to go to that afternoon. I also told her that she needed to wash her wild tangled hair if she wanted to go to the party.
We finally made it home and I let her watch TV while I did some prep for tonight’s dinner: we were having three other couples and five children over, so there was a lot to be done. As the party time approached, I checked in with her.
“Do you want to go to the party?”
“What kind of party is it?”
“I don’t know. It’s at the lake. I guess it’s a lake party.”
“It’s not one of those princess parties, is it?”
“No, I don’t think so. I think it’s just a party.”
She decided to go, at which point negotiations regarding the hair washing began in earnest. Actually, one very simple negotiation: