From a notebook found in my six-year-old's bedroom:

Animole tip nombr one. Don't scar a snak. It will bite you.

Animole tipe nunbr two. Don't bothre a bare. It will atack you.

There are also a few drawings, one labeled "cobra" which has the hood of a King Cobra and is very good actually, and one labeled "grisly" which looks very much like Blue from Blue's Clues.

A few days ago, I read her a beginning reader's book called "Animal Rescue Club." This girl of mine has always been obsessed with animals. Reading a story about a group of kids on bikes who work with a wildlife rescue center, well...it was like a dream come true.

"Mom! Can I join their squad?"

"Oh, honey...that's just a story. Those kids are pretend kids."

"Oh, well, can we call the rescue center here? And I'll need a basket for my bike."

"Oh, um. Hmm. I don't think, uh. Hmm." I'm just a picture of eloquence when my kids start asking for things that I have no intention of delivering.

"Wait. Maybe I have to be seven. Do you think I have to be seven to be on the Animal Rescue Squad?"

"Oh, um...I think you have to be ten. Yes. Ten."

"Where does it say that?" She begins to flip through the book, looking for confirmation. "M-O-M, it doesn't say that."

"Oh, well, I'll check and see if there is a youth volunteer program at any of our local animal rescues. But we'll probably have to wait until summer.'

"Summer? SUMMER?" She's seriously put off by this. "We're going to FLORIDA this summer." A light goes off in her eyes. "Maybe I can help rescue alligators!"

Maybe I should suggest a tip for her book:

Animol tipe nunbr three: Don't ask Mommy to allow alligator rescues. She will say NO.