Yesterday, I dropped The Kid and Lil Ditta at CCD. Coco lost her cool, as she is completely convinced she is 6 years old.
Coco (yelling, demanding, glaring at me, fist clenched... all while dressed in one of Tink's nightgowns, sweatpants and rain boots):
I wanna go to CeeCeeDee! Me go to CeeCeeDee like mine broda! I'ne big too! I wanna go to CeeCeeDeeeee! I rweally wanna go to CeeCeeDeee!
From the other side of the van.
Calmly gazing out of the window.
Elbow on armrest, chin on hand.
Completely monotoned, lacking any emotion.
Tink responds: Not. Me.
I actually giggled, to spite myself.
First: Kindergarten, next year should be interesting.
Second: Ok. I'll admit it...
Maybe Tink spends too much time with her mother.
Though let's get real, I gotta feeling Coco is gonna need the religion more than anyone. She'll grab a hold of that Catholic 'confess thy sins and you shall find forgiveness' with both hands....and run with it.
Quickly and probably with scissors.