Melody: Mommy, why do you stop at red lights?
Mommy: Because that's what you're supposed to do.
Melody: But Oma doesn't. She speeds up and goes faster, faster, faster!
When Dixie came to live with us last January, the first month was like a honeymoon. The girls played together happily, endlessly, perfectly. After the novelty wore off and Dixie realized that she was in for the long haul, she with through a rough patch that I like to refer to as the "Can I be bad enough that you let me go back home to grandma" stage.
Melody also had her moments where she found this to be officially Not a Good Idea. They occurred about as frequently as, say, breathing in or out. During the midst of this time, we had the following conversation.
Melody: Mommy, why is Dixie so mean?
Mommy: She's having a hard time. Can you imagine how hard it would be if I went away and you never got to see me again?
Melody: But you can't go away! If you go away, who is going to drive us places?
I guess it is important to know your role, eh?