Zoe is a collector. Since coming home, she has been nearly obsessive about collecting things and putting them into any available carrying case and then keeping it, just in case she might someday need whatever it is she has collected. She has envelopes full of bits of paper, bags full of the cardboard things that fall out of magazines, a bucket of dried indian corn, beads, barrettes, pennies, alphabet magnets, pipe cleaners, fuzzy pom pom thingies and several of the dog's toys, just to name a few. She hoards them. Most of the time this isn't a problem...unless you are the dog and you want your bone back. But every once in a while, she goes too far. Case in point - the other day I woke her up from her nap because we needed to pick up her brother at school. I carried her down the stairs and sat her on a chair to put on her shoes, like I always do. Except, there were no shoes - ANYWHERE! All of Zoe's shoes had disappeared, as if by magic. I searched and I searched, all the while asking her over and over again, "Zoe, where did you put your shoes?" The clock is ticking, Caleb's school is letting out in 5 minutes, it is 15 degrees outside, and Zoe, by now, is sitting on the stairs, arms folded across her chest, refusing to look at me or speak to me or otherwise give me any help whatsoever. I would like to say that I was the picture of patience, serenity, and all things warm and fuzzy at that moment...except that I would very likely be struck by lightning if I did. Luckily, just before the top of Mommy's head blew off and hit the ceiling, I found the shoes...ALL of the shoes...from slippers to snow boots. She had put them all in a container and hidden them in a rarely used corner behind a very large piece of furniture. Parenting three year olds...not a job for the faint of heart.