Oh... that...

This morning while getting the girls dressed, I turned to find Little Sister running out into the hallway. A door slammed, and then she quickly returned, looking quite satisfied with herself.

"Did you lock Keaton in my room?" I asked.

Little Sis nodded. "Now she won't poop on my bed." This made Big Sister giggle and me shake my head.

I responded with something along the lines of this: "She isn't going to poop on your bed. I just tell you not to lock her out of Mommy & Daddy's room because her bathroom is in our bathroom. If she can't get there, then she might go potty somewhere else."

"She will poop on my floor." It seemed Little Sis thought this was a good compromise between her position and mine.

Then Big Sister chimed in as I helped her put on her shoes. "Remember when Keaton pooped in my castle?" I nodded. When the cat was very sick a few years ago, she seemed to think the pink and purple play-tent was her own master bath. How could I forget something that gross?

"Hey, whatever happened to that castle, anyway?" asked Big Sis.

Feeling proud of myself and grateful for the opportunity, I seized the moment to talk about behavior and consequences. "Well, it got torn up. You threw a few huge fits and you broke it. And one day, I just took it down. It's in the attic, but I can't figure out how to fix it again."

"You could buy me a new one. Or Daddy could get some wood and build us a real one. A big fancy one." Big Sis was seriously overestimating her dad's carpentry skills, but that wasn't the biggest problem in my mind.

"You tore up the last one. You didn't take care of it, and you purposely broke it when you were angry and in time out. Why in the world would we get you another one?"

Without missing a beat, Big Sister answered. "To show grace," she said.

Oh. That.

Sometimes this kid is too smart for her own good.

Or for mine, at least!