Friday night we met some friends for dinner. Since Mr. Husband works near the restaurant that was selected, Alexis and I drove down together and met him there. As us girls were leaving, Alexis gazed at the fluffy white snowflakes as they gently fell to the ground, and suddenly noticed the very large stone building at the end of the road. "What's that?" she asked.

"A church," I told her.

"I wanna go in," she replied.

It wasn't exactly the right moment for us to go charging into a random church, so I told her we could drive by it and look at it more closely, but that we didn't have time to go in.

So we drove past it, Alexis wide-eyed as she stared at the nearly 200-year old castle-like structure. "I wanna go in," she repeated.

"Hon, we can't go in now. Do you want to go look at a different church, though?" I asked.

"Yeah," the Toddler replied.

So we wandered the few miles from the Strip District towards downtown and drove past a few more old churches.

"I wanna go in," Alexis reiterated each time we drove past a new one.

Intrigued, I finally asked, "Why do you want to go in?"

Alexis, in her infinite Toddler wisdom, explained, "I wanna see Sleeping Cutey and her dad."

(She calls Sleeping Beauty "Sleeping Cutey" and is convinced that the Prince is Sleeping Cutey's dad. I haven't quite decided if that is a good thing or a really bad thing.)

So, let's review: I spent a good portion of my Friday night touring churches in search of a Disney Princess and her "Dad." If that isn't the most twisted way I've ever kicked off a weekend, I don't know what is.