WCK is generally a pretty well-behaved child. Well, for a three-ish-year old. When she's had a good nap. And when she's not at the Zona Rosa play area. For some reason, ZR turns her into a complete running-away-from-Mommy maniac, and she leads other people's children astray. (Sorry, Abigail!) But most of the time, she's a good kid.
Lately, though, we've been having big problems at bedtime, when WCK will NOT. LISTEN. TO. A. WORD. WE. SAY.
"Go into your room and get into your bed," we'll say. WCK will only laugh and streak down the hall.
"Go into the bathroom and sit on the potty," we'll say. Oh, this is a good one. There's no WAY WCK is going anywhere near that potty. Even if we do get her to sit on the potty, we'll never get her to wash her hands. Or put her pants back on. Or go back into her room and go to sleep.
One night, I picked up one of her stuffed dinosaurs, waggled his head a little bit, and said in a funny voice, "Hey, WCK, can you show me how to go potty? I don't know how." WCK immediately complied. The dinosaur asked her to show him how to wash hands. She did that, too. Then she showed the dinosaur how to go to bed. She will do ANYTHING for this dinosaur, despite the fact that I'm a terrible ventriloquist and she can obviously see my lips moving on the dinosaur's behalf. Also, the dinosaur must be a very slow learner, as he constantly claims to have NO IDEA how to go potty or get into bed, despite being shown repeatedly. WCK does not question this. Dinosaurs did have pea-sized brains, after all.
The dinosaur's voice is a cross between the voices of Marge Simpson and Tiny Little Super Guy. It's gotten to the point where all requests have to be made in the dinosaur voice. The Normal Mommy Voice gets no respect. Dinosaur Voice gets instant compliance. Will I ever have to do this out in public? I'm sure I will let you know.