Gimmee a 'C!'

This afternoon Natalie crawled onto my lap, ready for some affection. She has a barky cough and a fever, so she was happy to stop and sit quietly for a minute. As she rested, Natalie's index finger slid along the logo on my shirt as her little voice carefully spelled 'C-A-B-O-T.'

Camille and I were both shocked and maybe a little disbelieving. After all, she just turned two at the end of December.

When I had her do it again, though, she still got all the letters right.

I knew she was interested in the alphabet. She's been pointing out various letters to me for a while. Sometimes she gets them right and sometimes not. A few letters she knows cold. Every time we go to Walmart she shouts "W!" as we pull into the parking lot.

Is my child brilliant? Am I a paragon of motherly virtue, teaching my nursery-aged kids to absorb Plato, Shakespeare and, of course, Jane Austen?

Well, the answer is probably 'no' to the first. And certainly 'no' to the second. I'm not a paragon of anything.

I blame PBS. It is their fault entirely.

Every weekday morning from 9 to 9:30 I have a blissfully uninterrupted half hour to do the dishes or check my email courtesy of a little tv program called Super Readers.

Cute show. Apparently very educational.

I'll let you know what Natalie thinks of Pride and Prejudice next week. We're skipping John Steinbeck and Thomas Hardy altogether.

After all, a girl's got to have her standards.