(*Or if not you better get a cardiologist because your heart is missing.)
Yesterday, Griffin asked Grant for a cookie right after breakfast. But apparently Grant didn't think he needed a cookie so he said "no". So that sweet little genius of mine thought about that for a moment, paused, and said "potty, potty", ran right to his room, plopped down on his little plastic potty, looked up at his dad and said with a clear look of success in his eyes, "Potty. Cookie."
Well played, my darling, well played indeed.
Are you kidding me with this? No. I'm not.