"The Dad Says. ..."

Last week Gina picked up one of those old school toys where you pull the lever and the dial spins and makes the noise of the animal the arrow lands on. You know. .... "the cow says. ... mooooooooo". Anyway, it's caused us to start playing this game all the time. When we see a dog walk by someone says "what's the dog say?" To which the girls respond with "woof, woof". It's cute, and it makes us beam with pride that our kids can fill in for Dr. Doolittle if there's ever a medical emergency and he's stuck with a sick tortoise in the Galapagos. Plus my sister-in-laws think it's hilarious. Anyway, Gina was playing this game with the girls, running through the gamut; horse, duck, sheep, dog, when she suddenly had a brilliant idea to throw the girls for a loop. "Girls, what does the Daddy say?" I wish there was a pause. A moment for them to think it over, wondering about the perfect answer. But no. With out missing a beat Arianna says "Da, da, da, da" as she wags her finger and scowls. This, of course, is our response to something that's been bad. When we scold we say "da, da, da, da" and we wag our finger at culprit (often times a chair leg that's tripped us or an over eager dog that's knocked us down, but often times an out of line toddler). I feel this is a bum wrap. I'm the easy going one. I'm the one who can't bring myself to hold an angry expression for more than 0.6 seconds. How am I now being identified as the one who says "da, da, da" enough that it's my calling card sound byte? What's the deal with that?! Of course, I might as well enjoy it while I can. By the time they hit 16 (or discover the Nordstrom's shoe section, which ever comes first) the Dad will say "cha-ching, cha-ching". And from then on I'll just be muttering the "da,da's" under my breath.