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Child's Play


 Our girls recently had a birthday and were spoiled with all kinds of fun gifts from the grandparents, aunts, and uncles.  Toys have come a long way since we were kids.  Cupie dolls .  Need I say more?  One gift that all the kids wanted to play with right out of the gate was a miniature kitchen aid mixer.  I couldn't blame them.  When I got the real thing, I think I used it to mix everything I ate for the first week, right down to my milk and cereal.  

The girls set to work immediately, making cookies out of strips of paper, string, and water.  After a good and thorough mixing, they placed the batter in mounds on a cookie sheet and set it in the oven drawer to "bake."  It didn't take long, and they were pulling them out of the oven.  Unfortunately, I was a little slow on the draw.  I saw Emerson chewing a mouthful of red string, which she claimed was her cookie, and made her spit it out.  Carter, unfortunately, had more paper than string and was able to swallow before I intervened.  She's not picky when it comes to baked goods.  I'm not sure how she's going to feel about expelling embroidery floss, however.  

In addition to a mixer, they received a sweet little tea set.  They've had exactly forty-two tea parties in the last seven days.  Each party looses approximately a liter of water in the vicinity of their dining experience.  I wish I could say that means things are at least getting cleaned as they are getting wiped down, but I'd be lying.  Things are just getting wet.  

Along the lines of water and imaginary play, the girls also got ahold of a spray bottle full of water.  They like to play hair salon.  It's more about wetting down the hair than it is brushing or styling.  Carter also decided to use the spray bottle and comb on her pretend cat, which is actually a pink fuzzy sweater that she likes to carry around stuffed into the front of her pants.  I'm not sure where that girl is going to go in life.  She is either going to be a CEO of some fortune 500 company, or she's going to live in our basement until we die.  It could go either way at this point.     

Until it's a little more clear, I'll pray for the best and keep enjoying the role of spectator, clean-up crew, and occasionally mama cat.  

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