Driving to preschool this morning, Sophie told me, “Hose knee moob rock is throwing stones.” She was upset that I didn’t understand her point, but eventually I got it: she was saying, “Hosni Mubarak is throwing stones” at the protesters in Tahrir Square in Egypt. Isn’t that what all 3-year-olds discuss on their way to preschool?
Perhaps I should turn off NPR.
Sophie told me that she wants to take flowers to Tahrir Square, brightly-colored flowers to make the people happy.
A few months ago, when North Korea lobbed missiles at South Korea, Sophie told me that we should wait until Kim Jong Il looked away for a minute, then sneak into his country and give the people food, so they would be happy and stop fighting. A friend on facebook declared that Sophie may be a foreign-policy prodigy.
Maybe if I were a Tiger Mom, I’d be proud of this. Instead, I’m me, and I feel guilty that I expose Sophie at all to this information. I’m much happier when she returns to discussing the shape of the clouds and the important question of whether a giraffe or a butterfly or she herself is the fastest runner in the world.