Thursday, August 31, 2006

Nini was here, playing with the dollhouse in progress, which she had populated with all the hamburger dolls (you know what a hamburger doll is, right? All those plastic doo-dads handed out with the kids meals.) and the Disney playset characters. It looked like a kiddie version of the bar scene from "Star Wars". She was acting out some little dramas on her own, while I gave Bubs a bottle.

"Tomorrow," she announced to the assembled tiny Barbies and Madame Alexanders and Polly Pockets and Minnies and Daisys and Kelly and that invisible chick from Fantastic Four, "is the finalé. Everyone go to bed and in the morning you can try on the shoe and whoever wins will go to the big party."

"Finalé"? What kind of four year old says "finalé"?

One that's watched way too much reality TV, perhaps?

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