Samantha asked for help remembering a new friend’s name, for a crayon drawing she was working on.
I responded, “Floofinheimer.”
Samantha scowled, “No, it’s not! It’s Maggie!”
I am not particularly amused with the number of questions I field each day, to which she does already know the answer, but we’ll chalk that up to immature conversation skills. So I answered only, “Well, alright then, Snickerdoodle.”
Samantha was not amused with me. “That’s not my name! I’m Samantha!”
I asked, for the sake of conversation, “What does that mean?”
“It means my name is Samantha!”
“Well, what does that mean?”
She crossed her arms over her chest, “It means I’m caring and like friendship!” and grinned.
My girl is wonderful.