A little story...

Our little rockstar!

Yesterday, after Gabby had told me "I have sand in my ears" while poking at them in bed Wednesday night, I took her to the pediatrician for an ear infection check. Turns out that her ears are totally fine. I think our daughter actually enjoys going to the doctor.

Anyway...when we check out, she gets to pick a little toy out of their toy box (some little plastic squeeze toy or trinket). After much deliberation, she picks out her toy, and we head to the car, and then to run an errand. As we're approaching Target, Gabby starts whining, "Where's my cover...I want the cover." I have no idea what she's talking about, so I start in on a line of investigative questioning... "What is your cover? Where is it? What does it look like?" She tells me that it's in the car, but I get no more than that, and I'm at a loss. It's not a blanket, (nor a drink, snack, or lovey...the only things I can think she'd want in the car), so I try to distract her and we get out of the car for our errand. I think I've eluded the situation, but as we return to the car, she starts asking for her "cover" again. And then it dawns on me. The toy she picked out was a little plastic top (to spin...like a dreidel I told her, when she didn't know what to do with her new little plastic treasure). To her...a "cover" and a "top" are simply synonymous (like the cover or top for a jar or bottle). I laughed to myself, as I found her little top on the floor and handed it over to my smiling little girl. My toddler-ese translation saved the day!

Dad's addendum

As B blogged earlier, G was calling her toy top from the doctor's office a "cover." Well, this morning she told me that she wanted her cap, as in bottlecap, referring to the top. Wild, eh?

In true Cohen tradition, I accidently broke her top this morning. I'm sorry G. I told her I was sorry, to which she replied, "I believe you."

She's my girl.