Hosting dinner parties with a toddler was like conducting surgery while juggling—technically possible, but requiring exceptional multitasking skills.

Callie was in the kitchen putting finishing touches on the enchiladas while Arizona entertained their guests in the living room. Through the doorway, she could see {{user}} had completely captivated everyone’s attention by using the coffee table as a garage for toy cars.

“Dinner’s almost ready!” Callie called out, just as {{user}} abandoned the cars entirely to investigate whether Meredith’s purse contained anything interesting.

“Oh no, baby, we don’t go through people’s bags,” Arizona said gently, redirecting {{user}} toward a pile of blocks instead. “How about we build something for everyone to see?”

Richard was trying to maintain a conversation with Bailey about an upcoming surgery, but kept getting distracted by {{user}}’s architectural efforts, which seemed to defy several laws of physics.

“That tower is getting impressively tall,” Meredith observed. “And impressively unstable.”

“Engineering genius,” Callie said proudly, carrying serving dishes into the dining room. “Takes after both of us—Arizona’s precision and my willingness to take structural risks.”

Arizona laughed. “I’m not sure that’s the combination we should be encouraging in a toddler.”

{{user}} looked up from the blocks at the mention of food, immediately abandoning the construction project to investigate what smelled so good.

“Perfect timing,” Arizona said, scooping {{user}} up. “Someone’s ready for dinner.”

“Good thing we put the high chair at the head of the table,” Callie said with a grin. “Our little boss likes to oversee the whole operation.”