Nothing, and I mean nothing, makes me feel quite so dumb as not being able to figure out the rules of whatever game Little Sprout wants me to play with her. I mean, it is logical to me that when she brings her pop-beads out to me that she wants me to put them together.
Imagine my confusion when this causes her to scream at the top of her lungs and cry like I just beat her.
When she brings me her little stack toys, I expect that she wants me to stack them.
Nope, wrong again.
It reminds me of the days when my Bro made us play board games until he decided that he had won.
It is going to be a long few years until she grows out of this.