"No"

This morning Reilly was being a two-year-old. By that, I mean that she was just dragging her feet through every morning process. On the potty, she wanted her treat and her hand stamp after she did her business. Make that two hand stamps. Then she got the ink on her fingers and had to wash it off. But the handwashing removed part of her handstamp, so she needed another one.

Then she didn't want to put any clothes on. Though I was tempted to send her to school in the buff, I knew this wouldn't bother her. The kid would go naked 24-7 if we let her. So, I asked her 100 different ways with as many bribes to please, for the love of God, put your underwear on. Her special Elmo underwear.

Her answer? "No."

(Imagine me pulling my hair out.)

I resorted to forcing her into her clothes, which was a terrible idea. Shawn heard the commotion and came in with a cool head and had a talk with Reilly and was able to coax her into her clothes.

At some point in this process, Shawn asked me to please stop pacing the room. It was making her anxious.

Finally, I got Reilly out the door, and after dragging her feet on the walk to the garage, we made it to the car. Of course, she wouldn't let me put her in the carseat. She had to climb in herself. And I wasn't allowed to buckle her in. She wanted to do it.

Once I was sure that she was properly buckled in, I got in the driver's seat, sighed, and started up the car.

Reilly piped up from the back:

"I a crazy kid."

Unsure if she just said what I thought she said, I didn't respond, so she repeated herself:

"Daddy, I a crazy kid."

I laughed.

"Yes you are, Reilly. Yes you are."