So, Eleanor's newest passion is Where the Wild Things Are. We read it at least 10 times a day. She knows a lot of the words, "reads"along, roars really terrible roars, gnashes her terrible chicklet teeth, and does an amazing job of showing her tiny terrible claws. (I am going to ask Bill to record us reading it, so that you can get the full effect. I spend half the book trying not to laugh.)
But, the best part is after the wild rumpus. On the page where the monsters are lounging, the monster all the way to the left is particularly slumped and has his claws over his very fat belly. Every time, Eleanor points to the belly and says, "Baby. Momma."
I say, "Oh yes, that momma monster is pregnant with a baby."
She says "Baby. Wa'thing. Burp. Bottle."
I say, "Oh yes. Babies do need to burp and eat bottles. And where do bottles come from?"
"Pump."
"Oh, and who pumps?"
"Momma. Milk."
"Right, Momma pumps. And, so, what does Momma make?"
"Cookies."
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First of all, Eleanor has excellent taste. Where the Wild Things Are is one of my favorites, and it's a favorite of mine to read to Sam, specifically for the terrible roars and the gnashing of teeth. Very fun for a little dramatist in the making. Sounds like you have one, too!
Second of all, isn't it amazing how observant they are? I giggled at her answer to "....and who pumps?" And what a smart girl -- she already knows that milk and cookies go together! :)
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