I’ve semi-lost my voice, so when I took Grace to pre-school I was talking to her in a purposefully crazy, raspy voice. As we sat in line waiting to be let in, this exchange took place:
Me: Can Daddy listen to radio?
Me: Daddy doesn’t have a book like Grace.
Me: Daddy doesn’t have book. Daddy can’t listen to radio. Daddy bored.
Grace: (giggling) Daddy talk to Grace is good.
And so it was . . . And now that I think of it, that was pretty girly of her, wasn’t it?