Ryan's class has been studying the skeletal system this week.
Today in the car, she asks me if I know what the strongest bone in the body is.
"No," I say. "What bone is the strongest?"
"The upper leg bone."
"Do you know what the strongest point on your body is?"
"Umm, your skull?"
(Which way to go with this????) "No, not your skull, but close. Your elbow is the strongest point on your body," I say, reciting word-for-word that ubiquitous email I keep getting, "so if anyone ever tries to hurt you or take you, you just ram it into them as hard as you can. But only as self-defense -- not on your brother or if you get mad at one of your friends, okay?"
"Yeah, I don't ever wanna hit another kid, 'cause my friend Randy in my class, you know, my friend from Camp Doublecreek, well he's my friend and he's like the biggest kid in Kindergarten, so I'd just go get him if someone was being mean to me, and he'd use his big ole elbow on them. It's a good thing his cast is off now, or that elbow would be wasted."
It's just so funny watching her personality peek out as she's growing more independent of us. I bought her some clear glasses for her "Elphaba at the Ozdust Ballroom" costume, and she's been wearing them ever since, on the condition that she won't try to tell people that they're real. That's been fun. I actually use them as a motivator to do homework, telling her she can put on her dress-up cape and pretend she's Hermione studying at Hogwarts.
This morning when I dropped her off at school, I started to let her out farther down the drive than where the safety patrol kids are stationed, and she immediately shouted, "No! I want to get out up there, where they open your door. It's like I'm in a limo."
Reality is going to hit so hard one day.