Today after work, Mike stopped by the office with Maeryn and Liza. We were going to talk about dealing with She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named (though not naming her gives her more power, so fine, Sandie) over dinner. When Mike arrived, he realized there were no diapers in the baby-bag with which to change Maeryn, and decided to head to Target to pick some up.
Figuring it would be a short jaunt, and dinner would quickly follow, I agreed to go, and off the four of us went.
After about an hour with Liza and Maeryn in tow, wandering upstairs and downstairs, from tolietries to toys, girl's clothes to art work, outdoor equipment to shoes, we decided to finally go get food. Liza and I were both hungry, with Miss Cranky-Pants and her little friend, too, paying a short visit.
Into the elevator we all tromped, with Liza excited to push the down button. "Press the one, Liza," Mike instructed, then asked her, "How high can you count?"
Liza looked up at us.
"How high can you count?" he prompted again.
She didn't say anything.
I tried. "How high can you count? I can count to, uh, one billion!"
In her dryest, so-very-close-to-adult-sarcastic voice, Liza responded, "Oh, Kitt. I am sooooo amazed."
The elevator doors opened, and she turned to skip out of the elevator. Mike burst out laughing, "Ha! You've just been dissed by a three year old!"