So it was up to the third floor... and there she was, in the playroom, quietly playing with the dollhouse. This wasn't possible a few days ago because of the solid foot of toy debris on the floor, but I spent a few hours this week cleaning and organizing up there. So there she sat, humming to herself, playing contentedly.
"Good morning, Noelle."
"Good morning, Mommy."
"Are you playing with the dollhouse?"
"Yes." (Always "yes." Never "yep" or "uh-huh.")
A short pause, then she turns to me and asks,
"Um...you pway wif a dollhouse when you tiny wike me?"
Bless her little heart.