On my way home I brought ** I’m a Little Mouse** a Pat and play book.
It’s got a good picture of a bear in it.
It’s no big deal. I’m not upset. I just thought it was funny that my daughter was right. The picture of a bear in the other book was only definitively a bear because it was labelled as such. It looked a lot like the dog.
My insistence on “bear” was my problem. From my daughter’s standpoint she’s absolutely right, and I’m an idiot to tell her she’s wrong.
This is gonna sound stupid, but we do occasionally have bears around here. I’d hate to see her go camping someday when she’s twenty years old and get mauled by a bear because she thought it was a dog, and I didn’t teach her the difference.
Then it would all be on the news about what a bad father I was and how my irresponsibility had…
Allright, I’ll stop now. God help me when she starts dating.