I've told this story to several people recently, but I'm recording it here because otherwise by the time it's useful as embarrassment material for dates everyone will have forgotten about it.

During our stay in San Diego, we were always on the top floor of a 14-story tower, which, well, towered over the rest of the property. Olivia took to calling this "the building." As in, "daddy, I'm tired, let's go home to the building." Or, "daddy! Why won't you buy me everything in the store?!? You're in time out! Go back to the building!"

Fast forward two weeks later, with Olivia sitting on the floor playing with her various San Diego-acquired stuffed animals*. Suddenly, she says, "Daddy! I want to go home!"

"Olivia, you are home!"

"No, daddy, this home is stupid! I want to go home to the building!"

Well, it's a damned long walk, but we'll see what we can do, kiddo.

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* All 32 of them. I think. I lost count.