"He hit me, Mama."

Dano and I have been discussing a certain characteristic of Lilah's lately.

Fact 1) Most parents think their child(ren) to be the most beautiful, special, and talented human(s) ever to grace the earth.
Fact 2) All children are special in their own way. Even exceptionally brilliant ones usually just have one area of expertise.
Fact 3) I really believe Lilah to have an area of life where she excels, leaving her baby companions in the dust.

Lilah has shown herself to be exceptional in the area of observing and understanding social cues and situations. She can sum up another human being in a few glances. Take the following situation that has begun to spring up more and more lately.

I am naturally the most protective caregiver Lilah has. I'm constantly scanning her environment to make sure she is safe and threatened by nothing. She abuses this and runs to me with every little thing, so I'm careful to wait for her to cry over a stubbed toe or scraped knee before reacting. I was at Chazzanos the other day having  a coffee when Lilah ran to Rob and asked him for something. I want to say it was a pen after I told her no. Rob said, "No. Sorry, Lilah," in a very conversational tone of voice. Lilah ran to me and threw herself into my arms, whimpering. I held her and patted her on the back, confused. Maybe Rob had hurt her feelings?
In a ragged sob, Lilah said, "He hit me, Mama." I almost dropped her. She then began to snicker at Rob before burying her face in my neck and fake-crying some more.
I said, "Lilah Rose, he did no such thing," and set her down on the floor. I couldn't believe she would play the people around her like that.

Yesterday Dano denied her some food item she was coveting, it being too close to a meal time. She sobbed and ran to me, hand dramatically thrown over her mouth to stifle the feigned heartbreak. "C'mere, Mama!" Arms outstretched, little fingers motioning for me to come closer. I picked her up. "Daddy hurt me." I rolled my eyes. How do I teach a 2 year old not to lie? Yes, he probably hurt her feelings but this was overkill. Not to mention, I didn't believe for one second my little daughter was alluding to emotional wrongs.
"Daddy didn't hurt you, Lilah. He told you no." She laid  her head down on my shoulder and chuckled mockingly at Dano.

Today, she was playing on her own with something while I ate my breakfast and drank coffee. After becoming frustrated with one of her toys for not cooperating, she came crying to me and held her arms up. "Hurt me, Mama." I took a deep breath.
"Lilah Rose, nobody hurt you. You were the only one in there." She considered this carefully, then shook her head.
"Yiyah pushed me, Mama."

God save us when she's 16. She's a few steps ahead of me already.