DolciDeleria

Caitlyn, on her own, named one of her stuffed animals today, the little mouse with a cookie that Grandma gave her with a copy of If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. The mouse is now Jilly Boo, or occasionally Billy Joe.

"Mama, say hello to Jilly Boo's feet."

"Hi, Jilly Boo's feet."

"Jilly Boo goes down the chimney (a hole in the top of a footstool). Mama, Jilly Boo went down the chimney."

"And what did Jilly Boo find down the chimney?"

"An ocean." (The floor.)

"Ah."

"Her mama's going to rescue her. Mama, say hello to Jilly Boo's mama." Caitlyn is standing next to me, with Tinker, a stuffed cat.

"Hello, Jilly Boo's mama. Did you rescue your... Caitlyn, is Jilly Boo a boy or a girl?"

"A girl."

"Did you rescue your daughter?"

"Jilly Boo's mama went in the ocean and rescued Jilly Boo. Now he's resting."

"I see. I thought Jilly Boo was a girl?"

"No."

"Oh, so he's a boy?"

"No, she's a mouse."

I'm quiet. I can't figure out how to respond to this logic.

"Mama, say hello to Jilly Boo's feet."

Apparently, I've missed my window of opportunity.