Cutie Pie, my neighbor who is about to turn 5, is visiting me for a little while. She likes to help me make spaghetti and meatballs. I call her the Spice Girl. I hand her a spice container and tell her to give it a good shake over the roaster full of sauce. (We do this before I turn the roaster on, so I don’t have to worry about her near any hot pans).
Spice Girl has done her job and removed her apron, returning to her alter ego, Cutie Pie. She has nicknamed Middle Sister “Bobbi.” It’s nothing like her real name, so we have no idea where that came from. Right now Cutie Pie is drawing a picture for Middle Sister. She wanted to label it with Middle Sister’s name.
“I know,” she told me. “I’ll get Middle Sister’s basketball and then I’ll know how to spell her name.” (I’m impressed that she remembered that Middle Sister’s name is on the basketball.)
“But I thought her name was Bobbi,” I reminded Cutie Pie.
“It IS! How do you write ‘Bobbi’?”
I told her how, but she decided, being almost 5 and therefore an expert on her letters of the alphabet, that “E” would be a better ending letter than “I.” I guess that’s all right, since Cutie Pie is the one who named “Bobbi/Bobbe” anyway.