I noticed as I got ready, that B was not following the list in the correct order. He jumped straight to naptime. I can't blame him, but I hoped, for B's sake that G did not come home early. Sure enough, G did return and he gave Brother hell for not following the list as expected.
Now, here's where "house" is different for girls and boys. To this point, it seemed like how I'd played house as a girl with my sister and cousin. However, when G returned to "work", B had to wrestle and contain the crocodile that threatened Whiskers. Woody from Toy Story took care of the other gator, rodeo style.
Flashback to "house" as played with our brother. Every time, no matter how much he promised his dog was a "nice dog"--every time--the dog would get into some raw meat and attack, then devour the baby. Apparently, when Cassie's C plays house at the sitter's, he is often the "mean dog", at least according to B. When I asked if C eats the baby, B threw me an odd look and said, "No, he just growls and barks a lot." So things are becoming less violent. Cool.
At that rate, my grandsons should only have to deal with mildly irritated pets in their version of "house".