I must be a little thick.
Last night, Claire was "reading" one of her favorite books to me.
She has to read it to me because I read it wrong. In spite of the title and the story and the fact that there is a whole series about Tiny, Claire insists that Tiny is not the dog but is, in fact, the little androgynous person instead. Whenever I start to read it, Claire tsks me and snatches the book out of my hands. Clearly, I am not to be trusted with her favorite story what with my penchant for corrupting the story line by actually reading the words on the page.
Last night, I tried once more to convince Claire that Tiny is the dog. She laughed indulgently at me. She pointed to the dog and explained, "He is NOT tiny. He is big." She pointed her chubby little finger at the boy/girl and asked me, "Is that Gavin?" I replied that it was not Gavin. "Is it Dillon? Is it Thomas? Is it Charlie?" Again, I replied that the boy/girl was not any of those people. She chuckled at me again, gave me a condescending smile, and ever so slowly explained, "Then it is Tiny." Oh right. What could I have been thinking?
3 comments:
Mine do this to me all the time. A friend once sadly commented that her children once thought she knew everything, but as teenagers began to feel that she knew nothing. Well, my kids somehow bypassed that first stage. They're always amazed to find out that I know things they don't know.
Your daughter is employing the Socratic Method on you!
I know, Mary! My kids think I'm a first class idiot. I don't get it.
She learned that from me, Katie. I am exposing my children to all the great philosophical debate techniques in a well-planned order. Or that's my cover story anyway.
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