Two for the Price of One

This morning, I was working at the computer while Adam was crocheting a doily (no, really, he was). Our daughter was alternately dancing around the living room, watching TV, and whining because all eyes weren't focused her way.

As one show ended, PBS began advertising the next program: Caillou. Adam looked up at the screen and said, excitedly, "Oh, it's Caillou" (in case you're not familiar with this show, "Caillou" is the little boy's name and it rhymes with the phrase "dye you").

Our daughter responded, "Oh, Cai-me!"

After my stumbling explanation that the "you" sound is not actually a pronoun like she's been learning, she changes it to, "Oh, my Cai."

Another program announcement followed for the show Wishbone. Our daughter got all excited to have recognized the letter "W" in his name and called out "Double-u. Double-u!"

Her daddy encouraged her, "Yeah, Wishbone starts with a W."

She smiled, and began repeating the letter's name, "Double me, double me, double me."

* * * *

Lately our daughter has really been getting into reading books. She's memorized bits of her favorites, and will even read some by herself when Adam or I have refused to read them for the 647^th time.

She brought a book to me yesterday and I just wasn't in the mood. I knew she'd been very patient with my moodiness this week, though, and I thought she should be rewarded. I decided to see if I could make her smile. I opened her book to the first page, and started to read the opening sentence from a completely different book, "In the great green room ...."

"No!" She interrupted me, "Not that book. This book!"

"Not that book?" I asked, grinning.

"This book!" She repeated, poking the page in front of her and giggling.

"Oh, okay," I replied, turning back to the book. With a smile still playing at the corners of my mouth, I started reading lines from yet another book, "Stomp your feet ...."

"No!" She interrupted, already giggling.

We went through that routine three or four times, before, mood much improved, I read her the book she'd brought to me in the first place.

A little while later, she tired of playing by herself again and climbed up in my lap with The Giant Jam Sandwich back in her hand. She asked me to read it, again, but I suggested she read to me instead.

She opened to the front page, started out, "In the great green room ..." and collapsed in a wave of giggles.