Thursday, April 12, 2007
In the car today, 4 year old J says to me "Daddy, the wind is blowing the grass and it looks like waves!" Of course I was about to lecture her on the inability of people to "hear" dead language like the too-obvious "waves of grass," but before I could make my point clear she burst in with "Daddy, when I grow up, I want to be a rock star!"
Her first two cliches within a single minute. I was almost proud. But more concerned. I want her to be an oil-painting, fiddle-playing, clogging, documentary filmmaker.