It's Her World

It's Elizabeth's world, we're just living in it. A recent sampling:

From last night:
Elizabeth, looking at a picture of an ad on my computer: Who’s that lady? My sister?
Me: what?
E: No, Aggie (our deceased dog) is my real sister
M: What about Harrison? (Our cat)
E: Harrison is my real brother
Daddy: What about Andrew?
E: Andrew is my assistant

--
When my sister was about Elizabeth's age, she developed another persona. She popped out the dark lenses on a pair of sunglasses, and when she put those on, she was no longer JB, average 4 year old, she was JenniWilson, secretary (and how fun when I went to college to befriend someone with that same name!). She spoke in a lofty, haughty tone and carried herself in an entirely different way. Elizabeth has developed her own fake persona voice, though right now there's no alternate person, just the voice. You must read the exchange below in your haughtiest voice.

This morning, trying to get her to get dressed, I showed her at least 3 tops that she grandly rejected before accepting the fourth. Then, the shorts:

Me: How about these, they match.
E: No. No, those shorts are not good. They are too strong (I think she meant stiff?) for me to pull my panties out of my butt.

--
I went through a pile of papers I had gathered up and found a sticky note where I had jotted two words: brown and stylish. And so was reminded of a story from a few months ago, one night eating dinner.

E: general chatter about one of her friends at school, one we weren't sure we knew
Daddy: What does he look like?
E: He looks like President Obama. Brown and stylish.