Saturday is, to Nora's despair, housekeeping day. While I wash floors, she plays Dinosaur Train with the chairs lined up in the living room, placing a passenger on each chair. We make tickets for the carnivores and the herbivores (so they get the right snacks), and she delivers plastic drumsticks and pickles using her handy-dandy grocery cart.
"You know some kids wear their hats backwards, Mom. Like this."
Later we transformed the living room into a dinosaur hospital complete with kitchen. I found the pretend muffins and plastic chocolate cake thrown on the floor. "Did you need these, Nora?" "Um, Mom. Those aren't healthy snacks." I guess she has been listening...not to me, but, you know, public service announcements.