With Ingrid the kitty in our house, I have to be vigilant at making sure Brooklyn isn't tormenting her. She has this little stroller that she loves to zoom around the house, wheels screeching around corners, her little voice shrieking along with her movements! This tends to scare the dickens out of Ingrid who immediately dashes beneath the bed. After repeatedly reprimanding Brooklyn for scaring Ingrid, I was witness to her zooming purposefully towards Ingrid with her stroller. From the other end of the hallway, I yelled at her to STOP and come here immediately. The wheels immediately halted, as did her feet. She knew she was in trouble and was in no hurry to come face the music.

I stood there, staring her down as she made her decision to obey or disobey. After several long seconds, she began wheeling stroller down the hallway to me, lifting it ever so slowly up over the edge of the runner, slowly approaching me and what she knew was going to be a lecture. She stopped just short of my knees as I squatted down at her level. I calmly explained why we don't chase Ingrid and how important it is for her to obey me. She stared at me impassively the whole time, taking it in. Then, as I concluded, she reached out her tiny hand to rest on my cheek and said, "Mommy, you cute."

A parent more experienced than me would probably have swallowed the laughter that erupted in them. Or at least turned their head to preserve the lesson being taught at that moment. I couldn't do it. Spontaneous laughter gurgled out of me in rolling peals, and I squeezed her little body to me, praying that something sunk in, cause she sure threw me off my soapbox. What a stinker!