Christmas

Every year I take the girls shopping to pick out a Christmas ornament for the tree, and this year Marlo chose this felt lamb thinking that it was a furry puppy. It all went down like this:

“I want this puppy,” she said while cupping this ornament in her hand.

“Marlo, the tag says that this is a lamb,” I said to her because I did not want her to accuse me of subterfuge ten years from now and be all YOU LED ME TO BELIEVE THAT WAS A DOG.

“No, it’s a puppy,” she insisted.

I tried to appeal to her softer side for the sake of reasoning and offered, “A lamb is a baby sheep! You want this baby sheep for your ornament this year?”

“I WANT THIS SHEEP DOG!” This declaration was so adamant that the glass ornaments on a nearby tree rattled.

A sheep dog. I stopped arguing right then because she is brilliant.