Princess Complex

I always swore I'd never let my daughters get a princess complex. You know, the "me, me, me" attitude. Do things for me. I'm a princess.

But Emma's got one. And you know what? I'm totally okay with it.

Yesterday after a messy, messy Rice Krispie breakfast (um, no, not Rice Krispie TREATS, mind you), I got out the broom to sweep it up. First I made a mental note that they're much easier to clean up after they've been there a while and dry up. Otherwise they're just a gluey sticky mess on the floor. Anyway, as soon as she hears the sound of the broom coming out of the closet, she comes running. The girl LOVES to sweep. Addie's been infected by the sweeping bug as well, and usually a fight ensues over the broom. (This applies to our vacuum as well.) So Emma dropped what she was doing and ran over to the broom and I. Here's the conversation that followed:

Emma: Okay, how 'bout I sweep, Mommy?
Me: No, I'll do it really quickly because we need to go.
Emma: Well, you have a choice. [She may have heard this phrase too many times lately] I can be Snow White or Cinderella. You pick.
Me: Neither, Em. Just let me do this real quick, okay?
Emma: But Mommmm-mmmy! Princesses just love to sweep! How can I be a princess if I don't clean the house with you?!

Hmm. Good point. Princess away, Emma.