Claire, the Lawyer

I’m pretty sure Claire is going to be a lawyer when she grows up. My daughter, less than a month shy of four years old, has mastered the art of inquisition. We were on our way back from the park this evening when I asked her what will happen when we get home. (my typical tactic to get her to “agree” to her bedtime routine)

“First I get to watch one episode of Max and Ruby,” she said.

“Uh huh,” I said in agreement.

“Then I go potty.”


“And then we say prayers.”

“That’s right.”

“And then you rock me.” (not usually in the routine, but something Claire loves)


“What, Daddy?” she asked again, making sure I was, in fact, agreeing to this part of the verbal contract.

“Yep, I’ll rock you tonight,” I clarified.

“In the chair?” she asked.

“Yes, in the chair.”

“In the rocking chair?” making sure the terms were abundantly clear.

“Yes, I will rock you in the rocking chair,” I told her.

“Okay, Daddy.”

It won’t surprise me when she starts recording conversations on her iPod Touch.

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