Gaz says

Thursday was a rainy day, so we stayed inside and amused ourselves in the usual manner (tea parties and various excuses to move all the toys from one room to another), then Gaz announced that she was going to write a speech to read to Obama.

You see, she's got a bit of an Obama obsession. I take responsibility for this, as I did make her watch the whole inauguration (well, we played with toys and I listened in, but I did take a break from toys for the big speeches and oaths), but it's really grown into something strange and wonderful inside her head. Every time she sees a magazine with him on the cover she says, "Hey Mom! There's Obama!" The other day, her alien toy didn't believe that Obama was the president

, even singing a song about how he, the alien, was president and not Obama. Gaz set him straight in the end.

Then she started asking about speeches, and why do people make speeches, and what do they say in them, and what was Obama speaking about in this or that news clip. Then, on that fabled rainy day, she asked me for a pencil because she was going to write the speech she would be reading to Obama. And so she disappeared into her room for a few minutes and emerged with a bunch of random letters on a page. I should scan it for posterity.

The best part was that she couldn't read it to any old imaginary Obama. She had to read it to Mommy pretending to be Obama. So I did my best to sound presidential and listened attentively to Gaz's speech about her favorite things, her favorite toys, and what she likes to do (play games, play with her toys, play with the kids next door, etc.).

I wish I had had the foresight to have the camcorder handy, because it was definitely a YouTube moment.

Other fun that's happened lately:

What happens when you cook a fossil? (Inspired by waking up with her knitted nautiloid this morning, she insisted we find pictures and information about nautiluses, which naturally ended up by checking out pictures of Lituites lituus. I've been trying to explain fossils lately, but we're still at the "if it's a dead animal, what happens when you cook it?" stage. Don't ask me to explain this stage. I don't get it either.

Of the Greedo key fob she found today: "He's a skeleton guy with clothes on. But he lost all his bones!" (She did not respond to questions on how he can be a skeleton guy and be missing his bones at the same time. Greedo is just so much fun to play with, I suppose.)

Many apologies for the long dry spells between posts. It's been a crazy few weeks, between disturbed sleep cycles and general random cranky three-year-oldness, but I'm trying to catch up. I'm even not ashamed of the kitchen right now! The living room on the other hand . . .

Well, one thing at a time.