Lately I've been trying really hard to get Alexis in the habit of cleaning up her toys when she's done playing with them. Be it her 8 kajillion dolls, a tub of Legos, a box full of Play-Doh, or a bunch of puzzles, she has a choice--she can clean it up the second time I ask, or I will confiscate it. And hide it. And probably forget what the heck I did with it.

(I have no idea why I don't just take stuff away if she doesn't put it away the first time I ask. Apparently I am a wimp. Who believes in second chances. Or something.)

Anyway, she is generally pretty good about picking up, just so long as the instructions are very specific. It has to be, "pick up these puzzle pieces and put them in this box." Not a big deal, really, just so long as I manage to keep my wits kinda-sorta about me. I've only confiscated one item in the past week, and since it was the Hungry Hungry Hippos Game, I might have been a bit quick on the draw with the confiscating. I love playing that game, but I hate hearing somebody else play it and play it and play it. And play it.

Tonight Alexis and I spent two solid hours doing puzzles. We put together a little Belle puzzle. We assembled a Mickey puzzle. Then we moved on to the biggie--the 100 piece Hello Kitty puzzle. It took us quite a while to put that sucker together, especially since a certain fuzzy cardboard-eating creature kept trying to "help." We finally finished it, and Alexis stood up to do a little dance of joy.

As she finished, I asked her to start putting the pieces in the box. She said, "No." I retorted with my last chance offer. She retorted with, "Make the puzzle go away, Momma."

Dammit.

I'm being beaten at my own game. Again.