No, I’M the boss of YOU

My niece Bella is adorable, but a handful. She’s five now, and can hold her own in quite grown up conversations. She's started saying "for real" after making any statement she thinks we may not believe, and can even get her dad in trouble once in awhile by calling him out on things he shouldn't say. She also likes to make up stories and play with her dolls, which I totally admire because I never had the creativity to play with dolls. They just sit there, you know?

So I got to spend a few days with her and her little sister Sofia over Christmas. Bella got a new makeup set as a gift, and when she “did my makeup” she managed to coat my eyes in enough glitter that it’s still with me three days later. Sofia was running around with blue cheeks and purple lips all of Christmas day, and when RL was leaving Bella told him he couldn’t go because she still had to do his makeup. Gender shmender!


(Bella, in all her sassiness)

My favorite moment was when she was getting ready to go to bed on our last night together. I told her she could sleep with me, so she eagerly got in her pajamas and climbed in bed, along with her five dolls. It was pretty quickly evident that she did not view this as bedtime, but as a way to continue playing with the dolls and making up stories for her lucky audience (read: me). The stories go something like this: “Ariel went to see her daughter Melody and she told her, you can’t have my legs!” followed by much giggling on Bella’s part. I’m always a step behind her trying to figure out what’s going on, so usually I just end up with a confused look on my face.

When I finally told her she needed to lie down and start being quiet, Bella says, “no I don’t! Mommy and Daddy didn’t say I had to. For real.”

I start arguing with her about the fact that I was in the room when Mommy and Daddy did in fact tell her to go to bed, and then realize that this type of logic has never worked with her. I just have to be firm! So I say “Bella, it’s time to go to bed.” At this she grabs my hand, looks me in the eye, and says, very articulately, “You’re not the boss of me, I’m the boss of you!”

It’s hard not to laugh when a five year old is so completely testing you and your ability to withstand her strong-willed adorableness. But I stood my ground, and somehow she agreed to go back to her own bed and go to sleep.

Phew! Score one for Aunt Tplate’s negotiations with the five year old.