Wednesday, December 26, 2012

My daughter, the mobster

Guido.

That's the name that my oldest daughter has attributed to my youngest daughter.  Guido.

She also throws in a whole plethora of gibberish-y names at any given time.  But Guido is the predominant favorite.  Where did she get that name?  Who.  Knows.  She's three, and unintelligible are her mental meanderings many a moment. 

For example, when I tell her something that she doesn't want to hear (e.g. "Abby, we have to wash your hair tonight because you have silly putty and glitter glue in it"), she sometimes tries to cut me off with an abrupt "That's now how my story goes."  She is the main character in her own story, and it is, apparently, written clearly in front of her.  That's what she tells me, at least. 

And so we are the proud parents of Abby and Audrey, a.k.a. Guido.  We're such the proud mobster parents.  This is also why Abby had very little say-so in the naming of the newborn. 

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