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“Tori-Grace, you cannot have yarn with in bed,” I said as I began snipping and rolling up fuzzy blue yarn she had tied around everything. It was strung from her dollhouse, around her toys, wrapped around curtain holders only to end with it tied around her pillow. Immediately she began bawling over the offense of tearing apart her hard work. So I gave her a choice. “Tori-Grace, either you take the yarn down or I will do it for you.” She looked up at me with her big blue eyes, behind her pink glasses before lisping, “I don’t know.” So I made …