The day of her birthday...

me:  So, doodle bear, how does it feel to be four?

Keyzia:  ((quiet and thinking for a minute))  (((said very thoughtfully))) You know, it feels really really different.  It's kind of strange.

Today...

me:  Hey Keyz, you've been four for two days now!  How does it feel now?

Keyzia:  sigh.  It's really hard, Momma.

me:  hard?  How come?

Keyzia:  Well, it's hard not to have tantrums any more.

We won't mention the fact that she's probably had 20 tantrums since she turned four...

"Momma, can you take the 'caw' out of my pear for me?"

"The what?"

"This part."  (pointing to the stem)

"And what is that part called?"

"The caw."

"Oh.  You know it's really called a core."

silence.

"Well, I call it a caw."

Keyzia got sent upstairs this afternoon for having a wee tantrum over whether or not she should be playing the computer.  A couple of minutes later she was hollering that she needed me, and I'd better come up... from the bathroom.  It never bodes well when the hollering comes from the bathroom.

So, up I go to see what the crying and the wailing is about, and the toilet is FULL of toilet paper.  Seriously full.  A whole roll full.

Keyzia is crying and saying she's sorry,

"I'm sorry, Momma, I'm sorry!"

"But Keyzia, WHY would you put all that toilet paper in there??"

"I was trying to wipe my tears!  I'm supposed to wipe my tears!  If I don't wipe my tears they won't get dry!"

At that point I was trying very hard not to laugh.  Really hard.  That's the worst, trying to explain when something they've done is wrong, and it is, but the logic behind it just about kills you with the humour.

I suppose though, that the humour is one of the reasons we aren't one of those species that eat their young.