She is at that stage where she runs up to me asking me how to spell different words all of the time. She then runs to her little make shift desk to create more books. I set up a great little craft table for her in her playroom but she much prefers to carry her corrugated box around from room to room with her bag of papers and crayons. Kind of like when the music or art teacher had to forfeit his or her room in elementary school to work in the classrooms instead. Art on a cart. I like the immediacy of her moveable station. When the mood strikes, the crayon hits the paper. Today she created a book called BIG, about, fittingly, all things big.
This tiny kid. A writer.
My cup runneth over.
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