While reading the book, "My Perfect Playhouse" I asked Kate if she'd like a playhouse in our backyard. "For me and my friends?" she asked.
"Of course," I replied. "We could make a little house for you to call your own. It would have windows, a door and a table to eat lunch at."
She asked excitedly if she could have dishes and plant flowers. I told her she could pick them out herself.
"And at Christmas time, we'll have your Dad hang lights on the roof like he does to our house and we'll even get you a mailbox for letters from your cousins and Mommy will send you Valentine's." My mind, thrilling at the idea of this home of her own, caused my eyes to begin to spin and I overlooked the anxiety creeping into Katey's peepers. "We'll plant a little garden next to it where you can grow carrots and pumpkins for Halloween.... OHHHHH... you can have trick or treaters come in their costumes to YOUR house! And maybe we'll be able to go to Kate's Cottage for your birthday and Thanksgiving!!!!"
Kate begins to cry. "I don't want a play house! I don't want to move. I like my room and your food!"
I took it too far. My adorable, cozy cottage is now my daughters own personal HOUSE OF HORRORS. I think that SHE thinks she's being evicted. The pictured playhouse is owned by Dan and Kendall Drake. (no personal ties, just the coolest one I've seen)