Evie: “Hey, forget all of this! I’m 5, I can do whatever I want!”

Me: “Aren’t I so nice? Who’s your favorite person?”
Oliver, without a millisecond of hesitation: “Mama.”
Evie: “Mama is my favorite person!”
Ollie: “No, your favorite person is dada, my favorite person is mama.”
Evie, starting to cry: “Don’t say that! My favorite person is mama!”
Me: “Can we *please* not have a fight about which one of you has to like me?”

Ollie: “I don’t want to go shopping!”
Evie: “Life is tough.”

Evie: “The ballet is going to perform donkey-hotay.”