The Princess loves Barbie. She doesn't necessarily like playing with the dolls ... but she loves all the Barbie stuff (cuz it's PINK). When we gave her a precious little Pomeranian for her 4th Birthday, she promptly gave the dog the name - Barbie. We call the dog: Barbie Dog.
Yesterday, The Princess came into my room holding a Barbie doll. She stopped at my door, caught my attention (by swinging the doll around and around by its hair), held the doll up to her face and asked, "Do we look the same?" totally certain that the answer would be Yes (what else would I say; even though the doll has waist length blond hair and doesn't at all resemble my little darling - what else would I say?). I, of course, said, "Yes." And she turned, flipped her chestnut brown hair with her hand and walked out of my room. I could hear her in the hallway saying, "That's right ... we look zactly the same."
I don't know what brought this on - this sudden need to assure herself that she was the spittin' image of her Barbie, but I decided it was fine with me. There are worse things she could be worrying about ... like ... like ... okay, it bothered me a bit.
On the upside ... while I could have and maybe should have, told her that she didn't look a thing like the doll and that it was me that she looked like instead ... she'd have been highly disappointed (not to mention she would have thrown a fit until I agreed). I told her what she wanted to hear. Sometimes you just need to hear ... what you want to hear. Sometimes you just need to tell them what they want to hear (for everyones sake)!