A couple times in the past few days, K has gone upstairs and come back down with a sandwich she had made - two slices of cheese and pepperoni neatly sandwiched between two slices of bread, which she then put on a plate and sat down to eat. When I went upstairs later, I discovered she had put all the ingredients neatly back in the refrigerator. Then she announced she had to go potty and went and took care of business.
Goodness child, are you planning on perusing the apartment listings while you're feeling so independent?
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