Little One is attempting the art of bossiness. How do I know?
When told nap time had arrived, she bellowed at me (yes, preschoolers can bellow):
"Mama! Go back to your oppice!" (Uh, that was "office.")
She has issues with her "f" sound. "F" does not come out properly when one is missing three front teeth.
Despite her utterly cute and endearing "oppice," she was quickly informed that taking that tone and using those words with her mother results in undesirable consequences.
I do not care for being ordered around by my children.
There are other things I do not care to see in/from my children. One of those things is whining.
Do not get me started on whining. I loathe whining. Whining hits a nerve in me that instantaneously makes me want to snatch the whiner bald-headed. But that requires a whole 'nother blog post.
Yes, I am a Southern Mama. Why do you ask?