Mine. Mine. Mine.

Mila has a pretty solid grasp on the English language. While it's Alexis who could teach a class on using their/they're/there properly, Mila is well on her way. She can absolutely differentiate between I, she, mine, yours, and all of that. She doesn't need to speak in the third person.

Not that "needing to" is the same as "choosing to." She often speaks in the third person just because she wants to, I suppose. "Mila needs candy" is so much more effective than "I need candy." It's cuter.

Regardless, Mila does a pretty fantastic job with her words.

That's why this thing with the Christmas trees is so confusing. When I say, "Mila's tree," I mean the one in Mila's bedroom. It is hers. All of the ornaments on it are hers. There is no contesting the keeper of that tree.

Mila agrees. She says, "That's my tree," when we walk in her room. It's all most excellent.

The other trees, though. For some reason, she says, "That's my tree," when she's talking about them, too. She says that the tree with motion ornaments on it is hers. She claims the big one in the family room is hers. She even lays claim to all of the small ones that still don't have lights on them. All of them. Hers.

But they can't be. Because they're mine.

I don't know what game she thinks she's playing, but I hope Mila realizes that being a toddler isn't reason enough for me to stand down.

MY. TREES.

BACK OFF, TINY HUMAN.