Four going on fourteen

‎”Mommy! God made me! Not you! And you don’t get to tell me what to do!”
Excuse me for a moment while I pick my jaw up off the floor and reinstall it on my face after this appalling new level of sass. Is this a four year old thing?!?
I am tempted to punish preschool diva by explaining the inaccuracies of her statement and educating her in graphic oversharing detail that, while God without a doubt had a hand in her creation, I did in fact make her and daddy helped too.
Emotional scarring can wait. Since it is her birthday and all, I will be generous and let that one go.

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