Some recent conversations ...
M: I need to watch that Yankee Doodle video again because I learn about America.
A: What do you learn?
M: I learned about George Washington.
A: Who is George Washington?
M (exasperated): He’s our state! Remember that?
A: He was our first president. He’s an important man, isn’t he?
A: Who’s important then?
M: Daddy is. Daddy is a very nice man.
M: I’m bored.
A: Why don’t you go clean up that mess you made?
M: Because that would make me even boreder.
When we were downtown one day, we walked by the state capitol building and I explained to Meredith how all of our state’s laws are made in that building. Then I asked, “Meredith, would you like to be a lawmaker someday?” She replied, “Maybe. But I also would like to be a person who fixes broken fountains because then I could ride in one of those boats. When you have no kids and no more full tummies [I presume she means pregnant], do you want to do that? You could do that with me. That would be so fun.”
For a girl who knows the truth about Santa and the Easter Bunny, we’ve really got Meredith duped when it comes to something we call “magic kisses.” I blame it all on Kevin. He started it. He told her that if you really love someone you can’t wipe off their kisses. Meredith is always asking, “Was that a magic kiss?” “Can you still see it on my face?” “Can you please count how many magic kisses I have now?” One day when I was done counting all of Meredith’s magic kisses, she said, “Wow. People really love me.” Another day I said, “Wait Meredith, let me look at your face. You have something on your face.” Without missing a beat she said, “Oh, it’s probably just a magic kiss.”
Yesterday, with no prompting from me, Meredith drew a map which included her house, her two grandmas’ houses, an airport with a plane sitting on the runway, and a big sky with a cloud and a rainbow. The best part was that she labeled everything as best as she could. She spelled airport: “IRPORT.” She spelled grandma’s house: “GRIMA HES.” Then she took a purple crayon and drew wispy smoke coming out of one of the chimneys and said, “Look! I’m like Harold with a purple crayon!”