Gottcha!

Madeleine had a friend, C___, over from school the other day who is one of the two best readers in their first grade class. And by this I mean she came into first grade reading the backs of medicine labels better than I currently do. Madeleine is no slouch but she doesn't read at genius level. Yet.

Madeleine and C___ decided they would begin their playtime by reading a new book of Madeleine's. They agree to this by C___ telling Madeleine she would help her with any words she didn't know. Madeleine responded enthusiastically," Yeah! And then when you read I'll help you with any words you don't know."

C___ laughed. Not a mean laugh; a laugh of distrust, disbelief, "Well, OK, but I don't really think there will be any words I don't know."

Madeleine looked slightly affronted. Game on I could hear her say to herself.

And they read amiably for awhile and later moved on to other pursuits. But after C___ left Madeleine resumed reading the book they'd read together. Two rooms away from me I hear Madeleine shout," MOM!!! WHAT DOES G-Y-M-N-A-S-T SPELL?"

I'm wondering why Madeleine is yelling from two rooms away since I've asked her time and time again to walk to where I am and converse like a respectable person. But my response is, "Gymnast."

Madeleine walks into the room I'm in. She looks happy. Satisfied. Maybe even a little smug. "Humph." She laughs, "C___ thought it said gymnastics." She walks stridently away, both rolling her eyes and laughing while she struts.