She keeps popping in and out as I work at my desk. Every few words I have to stop typing to see what she needs. Her tiny flashlight that’s blue and not pink. A Beanie Baby kitty that sits among my books. Paper from my printer to draw a green robot.

Finally, she bounces in wearing totally different clothes and shoes.

“Why did you change your clothes?” I’m amazed she’s such a quick-change artist.

“I want to look beautifo.”

“You know where you look really beautiful?”

She eyes me expectantly.

“In your chair watching Sponge-Bob.”

She sucks in her breath and runs.