I was reading a Strawberry Shortcake story to Rachel this afternoon in which there is a Cake Shoppe. I read it as "Cake Shop" and Rachel corrected me, "No, Mom. It's SHOPPY!"
Later this afternoon, Rachel was being whiny so I told her I wasn't going to play with her if she continued on like that. (She wanted suggestions to solve a problem in her imaginary Strawberry Shortcake world but kept vetoing the ones I gave her.) She told me that she was going up to her room. This was said in a grumpy voice while stomping towards the stairs. I pointed out that if she went to her room she would miss her afternoon snack.
"No, Mom, you can do room service!" she told me. I suspect that she knew this was not a request that I would agree to since she was giggling by this point. She then proceeded to request bed service, couch service and some other kind of service before finally deciding that retreating to the kitchen TABLE for applesauce and crackers wasn't such a bad deal after all.
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