MBT #5: Three Year Olds

Me: Ok, so we have 4 friends waiting for us by the tree. How many flowers should we pick?
Three Year Old: um, 20!!!!!!!!

My (legally) adult thinking was hoping that she would say 4 because as an adult I am concerned with abstract concepts like fairness and equal distribution and evading guilt and preventing people from feeling left out.

Of course it's the toddler who chooses abundance, who seeks to bring to the rest of the group this incredible discovery of the buttercup variety.
And to bring it to the full.

When I found out that, let's just call her Zachiah, usually chooses a favorite intern to adorably cling to for the whole summer I immediately began judging the rest of the team in three critical categories of
1) silliness
2) creativity
3) soft skin
and proceeded to remove myself from the competition, resigned to my decidedly un-kid friendly future.

And again, of course Zachiah and I spend the following afternoon running through the park together, picking flowers and counting butterflies.

I was wondering if her adorableness could get any more adorable when as we walked back home in the early evening, I saw the flicker of a lightning bug. Seeing the teachable moment, (the telltale sign of burgeoning responsibility) I pointed them out to her, and that's when it happened:
She ran back to me, her face contorted in fear, tiny arms flailing in escape.
Proceeding to grab hold of my leg, she began softly whimpering "no.no.no.no.no." with her face buried in my hip.

Game Over.