I'm 8?

A few days ago I was headed to a doctor appointment. I had Brooklyn and Sadie with me and it was lunch time. We didn't have time to stop and get a full meal, but a few doors down from my doctors office was a little bakery. I decided we'd stop and get a cookie before heading in to help ease the visit. Kids are always easier to manage when their tummies aren't growling. Sadie was asleep so I left her in the car (don't turn me in ok?) and took Brooklyn in with me. When we returned to the car I didn't want to buckle Brooklyn back into her car seat for a 100 yard drive, if that, to get nearer to the doctors office door. I decided I'd buckle Brooklyn in the middle seat, between the two car seats for the little drive (again don't turn me in ok?). When I told her to sit down and as I was buckling her in, she says "I'm eight mom? I'm eight?" Turns out she does listen to me. I have told her that she can't sit there until she is eight years old, or 4 foot 9 inches, whatever happens first. I about died laughing. She is too smart for her own good. She's a sharp one and definitely keeps me on my toes. Looks like I'm really going to have to follow through with what I say and stick to it.