Chloe shimmied her tiny but mighty body down the hall this morning with her pink fuzzy blanket mummy-wrapped around her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

When she spoke she looked and sounded exactly like the curmudgeonly, orange guy from The Lorax.

“Get me my warm milk.” (or I’ll cut down your trees)

“I literally can’t open my eyes. My eyes are literally glued shut. I can’t open them until I have my warm milk.”

Her beard started to glow.

I explained to her that even in the earliest hours of the morning it’s important to use our best manners. I also told her that her eyes weren’t “literally” glued shut.

She said, “You’ll understand when you’re older.”