If It's On Your Cup, It Must Be Your Name
When I tell you that A. really likes to get into character, I am serious. This is how deep it goes. Yesterday morning, she was Dorothy from "The Wizard of Oz" again. That means a jumper with buttons in the right places, a white shirt underneath, folded-down socks, ruby-red slippers, and not one but TWO braids in her hair. (Try putting two braids in that fine, short haircut, to her exacting Dorothy-matching standards. It's the perfect morning-tantrum storm.)
Then when we stopped for coffee, I let her have a hot chocolate in the hopes I could read a politics story in the newspaper. She went back to the counter, asked the barista if she could please borrow a pen, and came back and wrote her name on her paper cup.
Then, because she couldn't do the whole thing, she asked me to please complete her thought. Per her instructions, I had to turn what she had written into "NOT A. but DOROTHY." It turned out like this:
This kid.... Today, though, today has been maelstrom-free so far. It's been great.
