The other night as we were waiting for Michael to come home from work, I was watching the tail end of the Miss American Pageant. I know, I know. Just shut up. Anyway, it was the talent portion. And let me digress for one moment here. I didn't get to see all of the performances, but on the next round of axing some of the girls, Miss Iowa got cut. Now, as she's gracefully departing what should I see? Batons. Batons, people. Did she honestly twirl effing batons as her talent? Pageanteers still do that?! I'm sorry. I thought that went out in the 80s. Or should have. Batons. She deserved to get ousted. Even if I'm partial to Iowa in general.
I'm back now. Anyway, as Michael comes in the door I'm watching Miss So-and-So who was kind of one of those big-boned gals you hear about, balleting about in a less than graceful manner. But it was ballet so it caught Sami's attention for a moment. And I go (and only because it was captioned beneath her), "Oh she's dancing to Vivaldi. Mommy likes Vivaldi."
Sami runs off and throws over her shoulder, "I have Vivaldi!"
Michael and I are chatting a bit, and Sami comes tearing back around the corner and hands me a Vivaldi CD. "See? I have Vivaldi."
I sat there. Trying to grasp.
She can't read.
She has about 40 CDs.
I've never played Vivaldi for her. Let alone played it and identified it as Vivaldi.
Michael said one day a few weeks ago he took that CD to work to listen to on his drive. And she must've seen it and heard him call it Vivaldi.
But she's got crazy recall skills. Or she's secretly taught herself to read but doesn't want to reveal it due to the whole 'read me a bedtime' story ruse she's got working for her.
