We are home. We took the train back last night, and the 5.5 hour ride on the very crowded train wasn't too terrible. The people all around us trying to sleep or read peacefully might be thinking differently, however. There was another little boy right across the aisle from us, and he and Emma became fast friends and terrorized everyone else in the near vicinity.
Emma is still gimping around, so I took her to the doctor this morning. Apparently she is going to survive, but will just be a bit slow for awhile. Not too long, I hope, because carrying her everywhere seriously wears me out.
We were planning to get Emma this dollhouse for Christmas, but now we're getting her this one from Target. I've been wanting to get her some pots and pans for her play kitchen, and replace her crummy plastic food with wooden food, so this way we can do both, in addition to getting her a dollhouse. So this morning we were at Target looking at toys, and I figured I could slip the dollhouse onto the bottom of the cart without her noticing since she was at the end of the aisle, engrossed in some other toys. I slyly pulled the cart up next to it, then slid it onto the cart. Without even looking up from whatever she was playing with, she said casually, "Are you getting that for me, mommy?" Gah! I said, "What?" and she looked at me, then nodded at the dollhouse, and said, "That box. Are you getting it for me?" I stupidly muttered something like, "Oh, I didn't mean to put this here," and put it back on the shelf. I should have known better than to try to get something past her.