I was taking my dog on a walk yesterday when I ran into my neighbor, who had his dog and grand-daughter, a cute three-year-old named Callie, with him. Our dogs are buddies so we walked together, eventually ending up at the park.
Callie had very specific ideas about how the playground equipment
was supposed to be used. I couldn't sit on the railing because I'd fall (all of three feet) and get hurt. I
had to step on the first stair leading to the slide, even though it only rises an inch above the ground.
She climbed up the slides, though, and let me do it as long as I climbed the right slide.
After about ten minutes, Callie asked, "Where's your mom."
"You're not supposed to be here alone."
"I'm a big girl. I can go to the park alone."
"No, I'm a big girl. I'm three."
"I'll be fifteen in a few weeks."
Callie didn't like that. "But you're supposed to be three!"