Manners, manners, where are my manners?

When my oldest daughter was just over two years old Halloween rolled around. Dressed up as Cindy-Lou Who she was as cute as could be. We took her trick-or-treating door-to-door. It went a little something like this:

Approach door.

Knock or ring bell.

Treat-giver opens door, smiles, says hello, and oogles a little.

We tell our little one to say "trick or treat".

She says "twick ooo tweet" in just-turned-two-English.

Thank-you is prompted for which she adds "'appy 'al-ween!" ...

Door after door after door.

Nearing the end of our short (for an adult, long for a toddler) door-to-door adventure we come upon a house where we begin the regular routine. This time the lady is elderly. She recognizes that my daughter is Cindy-Lou Who. She comments on her cuteness and striking resemblance to the actual character. She generously coos, oogles, and exclaims over this tiny-little-thing all dressed up- all through the screen door.

Now I would like to assure you that if my daughter had have been even- maybe 2 1/2, 3 or 4 I would have been shamefully embarassed over the following, but as she was just-barely-not-one and was able to articulate what is shortly to follow: I am still laughing 3 years later.

Obviously concerned about her treats, that barely-not-one year-old looked that nice old lady square in the eye and losing patience strongly directed her, "open the door lady!"