Remember that whole "I like to play in traffic and there is nothing you can do to stop me" phase? Despite the tears, screaming, fits, whispers, and stares, I held steadfast in my resolve. If Alexis was going to get hit by a car, then by god I was too. And just to make sure it worked out that way, she was holding my hand. Well, I survived the first round of that phase (I imagine it will be back when she becomes too ashamed of me to be seen holding my hand in public). For a glorious two weeks, we had complete compliance as we walked through parking lots and crossed streets. And then she had the idea of ideas. Smart like a fox, that one.

For the past few weeks, Alexis has instituted plan "Spaghetti Legs" whenever we are crossing a street, in a crowd, or she just generally decides she doesn't want to go where I want her to go. Instead of screaming, crying, and dragging her feet, she suddenly wills her legs to turn into cooked pasta. Down to the ground she goes, with me still holding her hand. The problem with this ingenious plan is that I got nothing. There is no counter maneuver that will lead to me getting my way. You see, if I let her fall to the ground, she starts rolling around in a fit of giggles. As I look on, praying that a car or large human doesn't run us over, she laughs and laughs and laughs. The only thing funnier? Me walking away. THAT'S freaking hysterical. And if I hold on to her hand and just drag her along? She wins in that instance, too. Being swung around by your hand is apparently better than any amusement park ride. "Weeeeeeeeee!"

People, I have been outsmarted by a one-year old.