We have a book

And, speaking of transformations, Cleo utterly surprised me yesterday on a walk home from the light rail stop, when she began to tell me about a book that she's enjoyed at the nursery school - and then, seemingly out of the blue, rendered the title in an ominous, dramatic voice almost worthy of a Hollywood trailer (well, if Hollywood trailers were commonly voiced by 4-year-olds). I asked her to lay down a version for posterity, and you can see it above; when I showed it to L., we both agreed that it seems to offer a window into what our girl will look like, or into how she might move and gesture, years and years hence.