Not long ago, we decided that Friday nights would be movie nights for the kids. They're always begging for movies, and because we don't have a television, the prospect of a movie night is pretty exciting. So, there has been much build up to tonight, and I really wanted the evening to go smoothly. And it was going smoothly until it just entirely snowballed out of control.

Virginia lied to Daniel so that he would think Ella had pushed her out of the bathroom (she really just wanted to get to the toilet first). Then when he rebuked her for lying, she pushed him, and when he warned her to get her act together, she stuck out her tongue, and eventually she spit a mouthful of water on me. So, she went to bed without dinner.

At some point during this whole debacle, Ella decided that she was a cat. Basically, this role limited all of her behaviors so that she would do nothing that was uncharacteristically feline. Now, I admit, I did notice her creeping about on all fours, but I really didn't know that she had taken on the role of a cat. So, when I told her to change into her pajamas and she didn't do it, and I told her again and she didn't do it, I became frustrated. Ugh. Eventually, she pawed her way into her nightgown and down the hall to the bathroom, where she was supposed to brush her teeth. But several moments after she had entered the bathroom, Daniel found her (with Jude), on all fours, batting at random objects with her paws. So, she went to bed without stories.

Eventually, I went into Ella's room to tuck her in, but I couldn't get to her bed because it was blocked by her desk chair. I moved the chair so that I could tuck her in, and her meltdown began. She began yelling, "move it back, move it back!" I understood that she wanted me to move the desk chair back to where I had found it, but I would not acquiesce, especially since her behavior was so abominable. I told her to move it herself, and in reply she yelled over and over again, "but I can't do it ... I can't do it ... I can't dooooooo iiiiitttttttttttttttt." Then, in a moment of weakness, I moved the stinkin' chair. Silence. She whispered, "I love you, mommy." Aww ... And she said, "you see, I was a cat, and so I could only do things that cats can really do, and so I couldn't move the chair back with my paws. I needed that chair by my bed so that I could get down later. You know, I was going to climb from my bed to the chair to the floor, like a cat."

And now it all made sense, all of her strange behaviors throughout the evening. I just wish I had known earlier that she was a cat. Of course, she still don't get any stories, and she wasn't allowed out of her room, but I was glad to have a little insight to her meltdown.