Thrown under the playskool bus...SUPASTAR...

Izzy was climbing up on one of the end tables with the intent of leaping off of it onto the couch.
Daddy: "Izzy, what do you think you are doing?"
Izzy: "I was going to jump. It will be fun."
Daddy: "Izzy, I want you to think about this. If you jump off the table onto the couch, do you think this is going to make me happy or not so happy?"
She looked as though she was deep in though but still she moved into position.
Daddy: "Izzy, did you think about what you're going to do?"
Izzy: "No thank-you." and she leaped onto the couch.


I didn't get my driver's license until recently and had prided myself in the fact that I had a spotless driving record and I had intended to keep it that way. Izzy was with me the day that all came crashing down. I am always amazed at the often, brutal honesty and infallible logic of children...especially Izzy's logic.
Izzy: "Why are we stopping, Daddy?"
Daddy: "We are getting pulled over by a cop."
Izzy: "Why, what did I do?"
Daddy: "Nothing, honey. I was driving too fast and the policeman caught me."
Izzy: "Is the policeman going to yell at you Daddy?"
Daddy: "No Izzy, he's not going to yell at me. He's just going to give me a ticket for going too fast."
The cop walked up to the car and we exchanged the usual pleasantries of ticketor and ticketed and he walked back to his car to check my license.
Izzy: "What is he doing daddy?"
Daddy: "Just going back to his car to check out somethings on his computer."
Izzy: "He has a computer in his car!?!" she craned her neck trying to look at the police cruiser. "Where is the plug?"
Daddy: "The what?"
Izzy: "The plug, for the computer. Why are we waiting here still?"
Daddy :"We are waiting for the policeman to give me a ticket for going too fast. Maybe if you start crying, he won't give me a ticket."
As the words escaped my lips, I felt a monsoon of regret hit me. I knew full well the instant I said it, exactly where it was going to lead me. The cop walked back up to the car, leaned in the window and handed me the ticket.
Izzy: "Daddy, were you REALLY going too fast? (chuckling) Wait, why did you want me to cry again?"
I heard a sputter of laughter escape the cop's mouth as he told me to mind my speed and have a nice day.
Izzy: "No Daddy, really why did you want me to cry? I'm not sad..."




I was remarking the other day at how different the two kids are. The boy, before he discovered the mind numbing vegetation of video games, did not like to be alone and always wanted someone to play with. This usually fell on Mrs. Narrator and I. It is not a bad thing at all and ultimately it brought us closer together. Izzy, on the other hand, could not care less if she were the last little girl on the planet. She carries most of her friends with her everywhere she goes.
She has a massive invisible friend network that I had wanted to name but honestly, there are too many of them. Believe me when I say if they were real physical things, we would need a much bigger house. She interacts with them on a level that most kids don't reach with their real friends.
I am told that I was much the same way when I was her age so I'm not surprised she carries on the way she does. I can remember making up silly little songs that became silly little operas, that developed into silly little arguments with the lighting crews and actors who wouldn't follow direction. Izzy's world tends to be a little more political with a good deal more shouting than I remember from my own life. And Izzy is absolutely in charge and rules her world with an iron hand. She is always threatening someone with punishment or time in their room.
"You will be expended!" she bellowed at one of her lackeys the other day. I'm not sure what it means but she damn sure meant it.
If you're not actually watching her Izzy will turn up to full on the perform-o-meter. I was outside doing something, just sort of watching her out of the corner of my eye while I did what I was doing and I saw her start to really get into it. She had a card board tube and was going on about "The Government is going to be called and you will be punished!" waving the tube about like a kind of swagger stick.
"Damn you!" she swatted the tube at some unlucky member of her entourage. If I could see the poor soul, I'm sure there would have been a nasty red welt on their person somewhere.
She came running toward me for whatever reason, tripped and slid for about two feet down our gravel driveway. The tears naturally began and I ran to pick her up. She was all but unharmed and now was covered in enough dirt to make her look like Pig-Pen from The Peanuts cartoons. She milked it for a good five minutes and I moved her along after I was sure she was alright. NOW, here is where Izzy truly shines.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her go between taking full on opera style bows and raising her hands in the air saying,
"I am alright, I am completely OK!"
And if you listen just hard enough, you could hear the throng of her adoring fans all chant... SUPASTAR!