There's a bike. It's from Santa, and it's supposed to be hidden until the big day. But today in classic 4 year old fashion F went downstairs to look for her blankie that had gone missing almost 2 full days ago. She does an odd (hereditary on her Papa's side I think) thing...she looks for the missing item in places where it couldn't possibly be.
Down to the basement she went, and excitedly returns to me to report that there's "something down there, it's purple and white with flowers! it's a big girl bike, Mama!"
I play cool, "Oh? hmm, well, I don't know what you're talking about."
"Well, come and see!"
"No. I'm not going downstairs...." then cheerfully, lightly,
"That's not our space down there, Ms. Landlay-Dee is storing things down there. I'm not going down there, it's not our space remember? And you're not to go down there either."
She did try to get down there once more, but was diverted cleverly with other Christmasey things to be done.
Crisis averted? We'll see. The Man already went to do some magic downstairs, so hopefully I'll just use my considerable tools of Denial and Distraction to pretend like nothing happened.
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