Schizophrenia

My family is playing inside the tent upstairs tonight. The scenario? Restaurant. There is a kiddie table in there and boxes set up all around as chairs. There is a blanket over the table as a table cloth. Books serve as menus. I watch with an under-my-breath giggle as the 12yoMan walks in and out with a tray, loaded with princess tea party bowls and various toys doubling as food. He is using his thickest cartoonish French accent as he takes their orders. Quite comical. But the kicker was when they switched places. Sweebee became the waitress. She took Daddy's order. Stuffed mushrooms. She took Little J's order. Pizza (of course). Then she skipped off to the bedroom slash kitchen where she served as chef too. When she came back she said, in an exasperated voice.... "Sorry, I had an argument with myself... but I got over it." I think tears were actually falling from my face. What an adorable schizophrenic nut she is!