Ah, the thrill of victory. Tonight, as I was providing a compulsory snuggle to the girls (a full hour after bedtime, mind you), the Bear comes out with this one:
Mommy, I like it here BEST. We don't have to move in and out all the time, and all of our, you know, stuff is here, and things. And you live here. Mommy, I Never Want To Move.
And there you have it, Internets: proof positive that the kids prefer my house to Daddy's. I win. Game over. Case closed. I am the undisputed victor here.
Somewhere, "We Are The Champions" plays softly in the background.
*Yes, it is a bittersweet victory, since this conversation led directly into the "if we moved, how would Daddy know where to find us? what if we never saw him again?" conversation, which sucked, and which I deftly steered us away from. But still. I am cooler than Dad. I was never cooler than Dad when we actually lived together. Hell, he bought them shiny purple shoes, which, admittedly, rock, and I am Still Cooler. I win, and he will just have to suck it. The End.