O is Me

This afternoon the girls were playing amazingly well in the front room while I sat on the couch and read a book (I know, moments like these are extremely rare for mommies of babies, toddlers, and preschoolers. For those of you who aren't mommies of babies, toddlers, or preschoolers, think Hailey's-Comet-rare, or parting-the-Red-Sea rare).

Grace was busy "writing" on a magnetic doodle pad. Noticing that she was very intent, I asked her what she was writing. Without looking up she responded in a bored tone, "my name." Looking more closely, I saw a row of neat O's across the board.

"Grace, those look like O's," said the most-observant-mother-of-the-year.

"Yep, they are," replied my three-year old master of the obvious.

"Um, I don't think the name 'Grace' has any O's in it," I tried to tactfully interject.

Grace looked at me like I was a complete idiot. "Yes, my name DOES have an 'O' in it."

"Sweetie, I really don't think it does. Sound out the letters, G-R-A-C-E. I don't hear an 'O' sound."

In that special tone of voice reserved for the most dense adults, my pint-sized princess sighed.

"Yes, my name does have an 'O' in it. You say it all the time-- 'Oh Gracie!'"

I stand corrected.