3F has been, just, driving me insane this week. I feel ground to a nub and I only worked about 30 hours this week with the hitting, tantruming, limit pushing, no napping, and constant, and I mean constant demand for repetitive pretend play (she has two alter egos, a purple cat named Jelly, and a black boy dog named Rudy). But these exchanges are why I keep coming back:

3f: *huge sigh* I wish I could fly.

Me: Me too hun, but you can fly in an airplane, helicopter or hot air balloon.

3F:Yeah...

3F: ............

3f: I would not like to ride in a hot air balloon.

Me: Why not?

3f: Because there's fire in it, and I might blow away. Then I would never see my family!

Me: You're right, let's just stick to airplanes/

3f: Yeah!