Gee

Daddy took us to the park a few days ago. Yes, we drove there.

It was the park where we had a run in with the geese last year. This time, we kept our distance and just played on the playground. I expressed my position on whether geese were welcome at the playground: "We don't want the geese to come to this place. We don't want anything to be in this place, especially bad things."

But I allowed for a few exceptions: "Turtles... they can be here."

"Snails." (We used to get snails on our back door in London after a good rainfall.)

"Dogs."

"Cats."

"Slides."

"Swings."

"Popcorn."

"Pinecones."

"But not geese."

Then, with my newfound appreciation for plural nouns, and noting that geese is plural: "If it's one, it's gee."

"Uh, it's goose," Daddy said, stifling a giggle.

"Oh."

Preschool

I just finished my first week of preschool. I go to school at a Methodist church down the street. They're going to teach me the alphabet. I haven't had the heart to tell them that I'm already reading (much less writing my own blog).

I admitted to Daddy today that I liked my school in London better.

"Why's that?" he asked.

"Trains."

"They had toy trains at your school in London?" he followed, as if to make sure I didn't mean the real train tracks just a pitching wedge from the school there.

"Two."

I do like my new school, though, even if they don't have trains.