You Can't Make This Stuff Up

So the other day Julia invented a game where she pretends she is a mama owl--a "video owl," to be exact (no. there is no explanation for that. it is completely random.)--who naps in a nest made of couch cushions in our living room. Fair enough.

Today while engaged in this make-believe scenario, she told me that her name, as the mama owl, was "Owl Me Able Stretch." You heard me. Owl Me Able Stretch. She repeated it many times, as fluidly as if she was reciting her ABCs or singing a Justin Roberts song. I kept laughing, saying, "What?!" and asking her how she picked her name, and she paid no attention to me.

It's better than cable TV around here.