lessons (not) learned from the three little pigs.

So the other day while we were driving home, Andy and Ava asked me to tell them the story of The Three Little Pigs. Which I did--making sure to emphasize that since that third little pig chose to work before he played and worked so hard, his house was nice and strong and couldn't be blown down by the big bad wolf.

I was totally thinking I was such a good mom since I just seized that little teaching moment right up--until a few hours later when Ava and I were pretending she was a little pig and I was the big bad wolf.

Me: (knocking on my bedroom door) Little pig, little pig let me come in. Or I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in.

Ava (cracking the door open an inch and whispering): Go check the other piggy. He built a yittle small house. Go blow that down."

So apparently this is what she picked up on during that little teaching moment: when the bad guys come, send them to feast on your weaker neighbors.

Which really wasn't the message I was going for.