I mentioned to Miss M that I had to get a birthday present for her friend Y, who is also turning four. “Are you going to get her a toy, Ema?”
(Knowing that Y’s mom is drowning in a four-year-long flood of toys for both Y and her sister–and a third baby soon–I ran gift ideas by her ahead of time.)
“No, I’m going to get a book for her.”*
“I would like a toy for my birthday.”
“Hmm, really. You know, you already have lots of toys, and you don’t seem to like playing with them all that much.”
“I think I would like a toy for a present.”
“Well, I’ve already bought your birthday presents.”
And it’s three books, all of which were hard for her to return to the library in the past.
It’s funny how the books around here are constantly spilling–and being spilled–off the shelves, but somehow there never seem to be too many.
* I did buy a book, which I immediately wrapped, because Miss M has encountered it in the past and really liked it and would covet it to no end.