Welcome to the Dollhouse

So the wife and kids had a playdate a couple of weeks ago. They went over to some friend's house for a few hours to run around and get into trouble while the grown ups discussed grown up things and did their best to ignore the little ones. Apparently these people had every toy known to man and a few others to boot. At home, the twins can make a whole afternoon out of jumping into a pile of laundry, so you can imagine their excitement.

Anyway, Ella found a dollhouse and spent most of her time playing with that. She did strap on a guitar and put on a show for a little bit, but mostly, it was the dollhouse for her. Jack never spent more than three full minutes with any one toy, kind of like a man with a remote control can't stop switching channels.

Although Jack is still in pull-ups, Ella has graduated to big girl underwear. And just when we thought she'd really gotten the hang of it all, she started to have several accidents, especially if she was doing something particularly fun and didn't want to tear herself away to go potty. So, she's playing with the dollhouse and the wife asks, "Ella? Do you need to use the potty?" Of course, Ella shakes her head no and continues playing with the dollhouse. Just a few moments later the wife sees Ella out of the corner of her eye, pants down and squatting in the middle of the living room floor. "Ella, noooooooooooo...." screams the wife as she lunges toward the child, afraid and embarrassed that Ella would just pee in the middle of the room. But then she realizes that there is something in the floor; something small that Ella seems to be hovering over. And there between her legs, she sees that Ella has placed the tiny little dollhouse potty. This was no accident. She was just challenging her aim.