My four-year-old and I were reading Carl Goes Shopping. When the mischievous dog and baby were left alone in the shopping mall (when is that ever okay?) they headed to the elevator to have adventures on another floor.
“Where are they going?” I asked my daughter.
“To the alligator,” she replied.
“That’s not an alligator,” I told her. “It’s called an elevator.”
She responded, “Well, you’re wrong.”
-Betsy, mother of 3