In Concert

So the other day Lilla starts making up songs, singing along to the beat of her own drum. Singing something along the lines of, "Anna. You sleep. Anna. You eat. Anna, you poop. And then dad cleans out the tub." (Long, grosser than gross story there.)

So she wraps up this tribute to Anna and then looks at me and says, "Aren't you going to clap for me?"

I, of course, ablige.

She then asks, "Why are you clapping?"

I say, "Well, you sang that song. You know, Anna, you sleep, you eat..."

She says, "Oh no, you can't sing that. That's a concert just for me."

Because, you know, my 3 year old clearly knows what a concert is.