No really. Mean girls. Yesterday I helped out Asher's babysitter by watching the kids for an hour while she ran her son to the doctor. This reminded me of a few things:
1. Little girls are feisty!
2. And crazy.
3. Asher is hilarious.
4. And crazy.
5. When I watch four children for an hour I need a nap. And a margarita.
After about twenty minutes of watching the girls swat at each other, he wanted attention. So he carefully approached them, waited for a lull in the action, then yelled, "HAH!".
Like little velociraptors, the girls stopped what they were doing, slowly turned toward Asher, and then started screaming and chasing him.
They chased him across the house back to the tiny play stove.
And then all hell broke loose. Because apparently, Asher was not supposed to touch their stove. Whenever he so much as poked it, they went crazy. Which of course led to Asher only wanting to touch the stove.
When he would touch the stove, they would slap his hands, which he thought was the funniest thing in the world and became his new favorite game.
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Stand off.
Of course once both girls started slapping his hands, they realized that just like their toys, they didn't want to share Asher...
....which led to them just going right back to slapping each other.
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