It was late as we drove home a few nights ago. In an attempt to keep Olivia distracted so she wouldn't think about her tiredness, I talked to her about the day, recapping all the fun we had had. She loves to hear again and again the details of her life, as if she wasn't there to experience it and needs a first-hand account. I don't mind playing along. Instead of saying, "I just told you about going to the library!" I use it as an opportunity to throw in new vocabulary words, or phrase things differently, or to ask her to fill in details. We definitely love to get our gab on. After several minutes of this last night, however, she seemed to suddenly have had enough. "Put on my music," she demanded.

After asking her to restate her request politely, I obliged.

As we neared our house, we drove by our precinct's polling place - the place I had just taken Olivia on Tuesday as I fulfilled my civic obligation. "Where'd we vote?" she asked leadingly.

Taking the bait, I said, "Right there at that church! That is Mt. Hope. It's where you voted with Mommy. Remember how we went in and-"

"Turn it up!" Olivia interrupted. Thinking I hadn't captured her attention well enough, I reached for the volume. "The music?" I asked.

"No! Your voice!"