ELENA'S POINT OF VIEW
"Mama! Charlotte took my doll!"
I looked up from folding laundry to see Grace standing in the doorway, hands on her hips. She was five now. Five going on six with that attitude.
"Did you ask her nicely to give it back?"
"Yes! But she won't listen!"
From the living room, I heard Charlotte's three-year-old voice. "It's mine!"
"It's not yours! It's mine!"
I sighed and put down the laundry. Referee duty. Again.
In the living room, Grace and Charlotte were in a standoff over a doll. Charlotte clutched it to her chest, her brown curls wild around her face. She looked exactly like Nathan. Same eyes. Same stubborn expression.
"Charlotte, is that your doll?"
"Yes."
"No it's not!" Grace stomped her foot. "It's mine! She took it from my room!"
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
"Girls. Enough." I knelt between them. "Charlotte, did you take this from Grace's room?"
Charlotte's bottom lip started to tremble. The tears were coming. She was a crier just like her dad.
