Our Wal-mart has an alley cat that likes to hang out in the parking lot. I suppose someone feeds him/her so he/she thinks it's a pretty swell deal. I mean what's not to like about hot asphalt and literally hundreds of car tires that are at least 3 times your size.
My kids have noticed the cat a couple of times but awhile ago when we were there, Conleigh stopped while getting into the van and turned towards the cat, thinking she could pet him. I took the usual Mom route of "we don't pet animals we don't know." which of course meant she insisted that she knew him. Being the foolish mom that I am, I went down the "if you know him, you should know his name" path. Which meant I just gave her a chance to prove she knew him by telling me his name....
"It's Glen, Mama. His name is Glen. Bye bye, Glen."
Glen? Seriously, where did she come up with that one? I don't think we even know a Glen.
D had the honors of taking her to Wal-mart a few days after the naming of the cat. And of course she immediately wanted to know if Glen was there.
Fast forward to today and a grocery shopping trip to Wal-mart. As we stepped out of the van, Kenson sidles up to me, grabs my hand, and wants to know if we'd see Glen the cat..
And then tonight at supper, D was sharing about a new neighbor whose name is Lynn. "Lynn? Like Glen?" "Ooh Lynn...Glen...That rhymes." "Lynn. Glen. Hen. That all rhymes!"
So perhaps I should just be thankful that Glen the cat is useful for teaching pre reading skills like onset and rime? Or maybe just that I talked Conleigh out of petting a very mangy looking tabby cat who was probably snaggletoothed and fleabitten and that she hasn't asked to pet him again?