My Kid is Smart

At dinner tonight, Phaedra started talking all about the beach, getting very excited as she told me about it. She was telling me about seashells, and how she found a “big one.” Eleanor chimed in that she found some teeny tiny ones.

I said, “Oh yeah, those tiny, curly looking ones, huh?”

Eleanor asked me what those tiny ones are called.

I told her, “Actually, I don’t know. Maybe Daddy knows. Why don’t you ask him?” (I just love deferring to Daddy for those questions that require actual knowledge.)

She asked him, and he told her they are called “conches,” but he pronounced it with a Spanish accent like “cone-ches.”

She looked at him and said, “Huh?”

So I translated. “They’re called conches. Daddy was just saying it kind-of funny.”

Then Eleanor said, “No. I heard on Dinosaur Train that they’re called ammonites. So that’s what they’re called.”

I laughed and said, “Well, there you go. You’re already smarter than your parents.”

Her reply started out slowly. “Oh Mommy, you know that . . . I’m smarter than everybody!” As she finished her statement, she raised her arm in the air with a little flourish of her hand.

I have to say, I did not see that one coming.