When I was her age, I was a neat freak. My room was always immaculate and my toys (as you can see) were neatly lined up around the perimeter of my room. If you were to sneak in my room late night and remove one of my toys, I would be in a nervous panic by 9am. I don't know if it's a curse or a gift, but my daughter is the same way.
It started early and has progressively gotten worse; but each time I walk into a room full of babies lined up like soldiers, I can't stop myself from smiling and hugging my girl. "You're so much like Mommy," I tell her, "like two little peas in a pod." "Yep! We are just two little peas in a pod!" she giggles, while giving me a half-ass eye roll.
This morning, on our way to school, she started throwing out her best "Scooby Doo" one liners, "...and then Shaggy said, “…with a face like that, I'd be scared too! HAHAHA!" We laughed, and then I asked (knowing all along what her answer would be), "So who's your favorite on Scooby Doo?" "All of them!" she replies. "No, if you had to pick just ONE..." "Velma!" she screams. "Why?" "Because she has short hair and she's really smart,” she advises. "That’s funny," I tell her, "Do you know who Ms. Alice's favorite is?" "Velma?" she asks. "Yes, and do you know WHY? Because she is smart! She likes Velma for the same reason YOU like Velma!" She smiles proudly and then says, "We're almost like THREE peas in a pod!" "Yes we are," I tell her, knowing full-well that there will never be enough room in our little pod for one more pea.