Out of the mouth of a babe

Our youngest, Gracie, has declared herself to be 19. Since the finish of the school year she has aged from 7 to 19. 12 years into the future she has lept. She has declared herself to be so smart that she will skip the next few grades and will go to 7th grade next school term. She sees no humor whatsoever in our laughter. You can't explain how funny a 19 year old in 7th grade is. She gets rather offended by any explanation. Also she has declared herself as the example of fashion that we all should follow. She loves to give fashion tips. Can you imagine how lovely we would all be dressed in lucite slides and wearing a sheet as a long trailing cape on our next trip to the grocery store? Yesterday she became a food critic. She informed us that nothing is lovelier than a grilled cheese sandwich dipped in tomato soup. We should have it for supper often. "This is truly a lovely thing," she quipped as she lounged on the couch in the above attire. Such a sophisticated child! She thinks men with moustaches, tattoos and motorcycles are the best. They are the kind you marry, don't you know. She believes houses should be white with red roofs. She is going to buy the neighboring farm so she will always be close to home. She is going to have at least 5 babies and bring them over every night to say goodnight. She also wants to know if I will leave Red to her in my will. At supper she listens intently to conversation and interjects random comments. When no one is talking (rare) she informs us we should be conversing. She insists she must be involved in all supper table conversation otherwise it is rude to not have something to add to the current topic. I thought I would post some of the funnier bits of things she has said lately. Gracie: What's that stuff Colby uses on her hair? palm something. Me: Pomade. Gracie: Oh, I thought it was palmolive. As to my dentist appointment - Steven: If the dentist concurs... Gracie: Yes, if the dentist eats curry... Gracie: May I have some of that tabby ocra? Me: Some what? Gracie: The tabby ocra in the frig, can I have some? Me: *Going to look in the refrigerator* Gracie: See? Some of this. Me: *hiding laughter* You want some of the tapioca pudding? Gracie: Yes, tabby ocra, please. As you can see she has great command of language, fashion and food. She certainly has a mind of her own. She looks like my mother. She acts like my grandmother. She is full of devilment knowing which buttons to push when to reap the greatest reward from her sisters. When we hear "GRACIE!" being shouted from upstairs we simply look at one another. There is no telling what she has done to the one hollering her name. This child is our bohemian. She is part gypsy and firefly. She lights up a room simply with her presence. She dreams HUGE. She laughs loudly. She grips my heart in her small hand and has no idea the power she has over me.