As in: "He's crying. Minnie is crying, Mommy."
Or: "He's all done, Mommy. I eat his hot dog, okaaayyy?
Or: "He's da stinker, Mommy. Not me."
Cuz at two, she's already perfected the art of throwing her sissy under the bus.
And it's gotten to the point that when she's in the act of throwing sissy under the bus and it's quite obvious who the stinker is who needs new pants, I've found myself having this conversation:
"Are you sure it was Minnie? Cuz I think Hazel poopied."
"No. Minnie poopied. I not poopy. HE poopy."
"No, Minnie not poopy. I just checked and his bummy is clean. Let me check your bummy."
"NO! I no poopy!! Minnie poopy!! He poopy! HE POOPY!"
"He is NOT poopy. You're poopy! His diapy is clean. Let's change your diapy so you can go play with him."
You see what's happening? Besides the fact that I now talk like a 2-year-old? Yea... not only has Hazel convinced me that Millie is a "he", she's also convinced me that his name is Minnie.
So. There's that. And if I ever catch myself in the act of saying he and correct it with a she, I still feel terrible that I referred to my youngest as a he. Because... clearly, he's not. His triceps are way too big.
Anyhoo, this morning after another "He did it!" episode, Hazel and I had a lesson about 1 - not ratting out your little sis... especially when you're lying about it and yes... you're the pooper. And 2 - the difference between he and she, boy and girl.
It only took a couple of minutes before she figured out that girls are she's and boys are he's.
"Daddy's a boy."
"Good! Now, what's Mommy?"
"Mommy is a girl."
"Right! What is Hazel?"
"Um... I'm a girl!"
"Yes, you are!! Now, what's Millie?"
"Um... he's a she!"
My work here? Done.