Oh parents. We think we know what we're doing. We pretend we are smarter than our offspring. Yesterday I got home from work and horsey looked filthy. Horsey gets a lot of love generally, but today he was dingy and covered in blue (chalk I think?). We decide horsey needs a bath and it is time to trade out to the clean horsey. Ha. Yeah right.
Later Kate signs for horsey and we hand her the clean horsey as though nothing had happened. She looks at him, clutches him to her chest and... you guess it... signs for horsey.
Apparently "Horsey" is not "a horsey" but "the horsey"...
Meanwhile horsey is now in the laundry room waiting to be washed and dried. Kate, always the clever one, walks into the laundry room and points at the washer until horsey is removed and returned to her.
(For those of you saying, "Awww she gave IN" I will have you know that horsey -- "the" horsey -- is drying on the drying rack as I type...)
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