When I was little…

At breakfast, Sylvia (age 2) told me: “when I was little I rode in grandma Peggy’s car.” (Mind you, I had just told her about the big red car my mom had when I was little.)

Later, she read Pat the Bunny to me. She can’t read, but it didn’t take her more than a few readings to memorize it word-for-word. Except the last page. We found the book a week ago, and I thought it would be fun to read to her, even though it’s geared toward kids no more than half her age. Example page: “Judy plays peek-a-boo with Bill. Can YOU play peek-a-boo with Bill?” There’s also a readable book-within-a-book on one page, which she also recites exactly. What’s remarkable is not that she can recite what happens on every page, but that it really is word-for-word identical to what’s written on every page. You can’t tell that she doesn’t know how to read. It’s uncanny.