We finally went
to dinner with a friend last weekend to celebrate that pesky unniversary. We found a new one of those hibachi restaurants where the chef cooks everything at your table. The dude pulled out all the stops - from tossing a shrimp into The KingofHearts' mouth to building a volcano out of onions and lighting it to simulate an eruption. We also ordered a giant plate of sushi. I, of course, did not eat any of it, just in case anyone was wondering.

When we are out in public, we are always challenged by people who don't believe us when we they ask how old The Dormouse is and we answer with the truth. Not only is she not threatened in the least by speaking to people she doesn't know (something that actually concerns me quite a bit when we are in crowded places), but she also talks a lot. I attribute this to the fact that we are just verbal people and because of the constant yammering that goes on in our house, she's picked up a vocabulary and expressive language ability well above her age level. I still remember the day a year or so ago when we were in the ball pit at IKEA and another mom tried to get us kicked out of the "under three" area because she was bragging that her kid (the same age as The Dormouse) could count to three and was therefore going to be the next President of the United States. To show off this ability, she tried to get her son to count balls. The kid didn't successfully show off his prowess counting past one to the growing crowd of onlookers (aka me), but The Dormouse wanted to get into the act and counted to twelve. Lady was certain I was lying about her age.

Whatever the cause, it's funny that people for some reason think that we feel it necessary to be economical with the truth when we report her age. Like she's really five and I'm just desperate to have you, the stranger on the other side of the table at the Japanese restaurant, be duly impressed by our parenting abilities because our kid repeated the word sayonora when someone said it to her. There is nothing in life that fulfills me more, you know.

Girl at the restaurant to me: "How old is she?"

Me: "Three"

Girl *surprised*: "Really?"

Me: "Uh huh."

Girl to The Dormouse: "How old are you?"

Dormouse: "First I was one, and I was a baby. Then I was two and I was a child. Now I'm three."

Girl: "What does that make you now?"

Dormouse: "A Big Girl."

Me to KoH *loudly so girl across the table could hear*: "Give her the car keys, please, she's driving us home."