"It's My's"

This a frequently uttered refrain in our house. And at the public parks--which we can go to now since we don't sizzle in the sun. We only slightly roast now that it's almost November.

Stella has become possessive of all things. Not of all her things, just all things.

Just to clear up any confusion, following are a few things that are hers. That way if you're ever at our house, you'll know what not to touch:

This man. This Daddy. This is hers.


This baby. It's hers.


All these toys. At someone else's house. These are hers, too.


And all these toys at our house. Hers.


And just so we all got it straight. This baby. Hers. No one else can touch it except me. She allows me so I will take care of it so that she can attend to the rest of her dominion.