It's mine! All mine. All MiIIIiiiiIIIne!
Today was the day of "mine". She said it all day about everything she could grab on to. If I tried to take even a piece of fuzz from her little hand, she pulled her hands to her chest and screamed - "Mine". If I continued, she'd start a protest which usually included some type of tantrum.
It's kind of amusing to hear her say that because it just means that she's getting older. We've entered the "mines". he he
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