Of Deli Rolls and Four-Year-Olds

For entertainment and comedy, you can’t do much better than have a conversation with your average four-year-old. I say this with no small amount of confidence, having shared a residence with several of these creatures over the last decade or so.

My current four-year-old model is somewhat more amusing than average. Take, for example, this past Friday. I had picked her up from school and continued on to pick up my older daughter and her friend. Said friend, being friendly, inquired of Tova Miriam, “What is your name?” To which Beloved Offspring, without missing a beat, replied, “Deli Roll.”

I’m not making this up.

Deli Roll, though more unusual than most others, is just one in a long list of monikers that have little relation to darling daughter’s title of inauguration. Every morning, my precious one and I go through some variation of the following routine:

Tova Miriam: Mommy, can we still play that game and you’re the mommy and I’m your kid and I am six years old, but I had a birthday so now I am…. Now I am…. What comes after six?