So this was the scene a while ago as we were getting ready for naps:
Catherine comes running up to me and hurls herself against my legs as I was turning back her bed. "Ma-a-ma," she whined, "William just said I was a genius." Whine whine whine. Tear, tear. Pout.
"Well Catherine, that's not a mean thing to say. It's actually a compliment. He's saying that you're really smart! You should say thank you."
About that time William came flying into the room, apparently having just overheard me consoling his sister.
"HEY!" he yelled. "Did you just say that 'genius' means smart?"
"Yep. Wasn't that a nice thing to say about your sister?" I asked.
"Well," he said. "I'm genius-er than her anyway." And he looked at her and said all sing-songy, "nanny-nanny-boo-boo."
I'm thinking that all of this is an early sign of greatness. We should be able to retire early when word gets out that we have a whiz kid on our hands.
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