Snippets of the school-related chatter I hear on pre-school days:
I don't think Joe likes me!! He always comes to our house when we're playing house and tries to get in! And he never leaves me alone! (I think Joe may like her a little toooo much!)
And we went upstairs and practiced on the stage. And then we got in the elevator and--you know what? I think eeeeeverybody is going to want to sit in my Uncle John's lap!
What are you doing?
--I'm homeworking.
--I'm pencilling.
--I'm scissoring.
Sponge Bob Squirt Pants. Oh my.
Also, a program. Lucy will be "Speckled Frog (#3)." Lucy is elated. She literally laid in bed, squeezing the covers to her chin and beaming at the ceiling. "I'm going to be a
speckled frog, " she whispered.
 |
| Speckled Frog #3 |
And counting. Lucy counts to 100 easily now, which is so cool. But we had a big number mix-up the other day. She insisted that after 59 came 61. I told her it was 60. She was adamant, and insisted (while holding up her wood-block "phone") that "all her friends said so." Go ahead and check with someone, I said, handing her my phone. She called Uncle John. "Hello, John? What comes after 59?" I hear. Then an abrupt, "Okay, BYE." At which point she held up a piece of paper and started sobbing behind it. "What have you done, old lady? What have you DONE??" she sobbed. I struggled to contain my laughter. I'm assuming that "old lady" is
me.
