(He does that a lot.)
"Abby," I yelled upstairs to her room, "do you know where Levi is?"
"He's in my room!" she answered.
I wandered upstairs to check on them. When I entered her room, she had Levi in a sort of headlock while she wrestled his arms into a sweater of hers.
"We're playing dolls," she explained, noticing the worry on my face.
I should mention that there were no dolls to be seen. I pointed that out, but my daughter had a ready response:
"Oh, these clothes are too big for my dolls, so I'm just dressing Levi up like a girl. Isn't he so cute?"
Bless his little heart.
Moments like this are why it's sometimes better not to ask.
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