Once upon a time, just the other day, there lived a family of five just down the street. Some days Momma stayed home, and some days Daddy stayed home. Every day Ava Anne, Savannah Lynn, and Hunter Thomas stayed home. Nothing extravagant ever seemed to happen. In fact, every day seemed almost the same as the day before. When Ava Anne, Savannah Lynn and Hunter Thomas awoke, they would tiptoe out of their bedrooms, down the hall, and to the kitchen. Momma or Daddy would be there or on the nearby couch, reading or eating or doing something uninteresting like sorting mail.
On this particular day, Savannah Lynn awakened first. Well, she thought, it’s no fun to be awake first because there’s no one to play with. So, Savannah Lynn rolled over and kissed her big sissy on the cheek. Then she waited and stared, with her face very close to Ava Anne’s.
After just a few moments, Ava Anne blinked open her eyes and scowled.
“Savannah Lynn, what are you doing?” She mumbled.
Savannah Lynn giggled. Her nose was almost touching Ava Anne’s face.
“Waiting for you to get up,” she said in a high pitched voice.
Ava Anne sighed a deep sigh.
“Fine. But let’s get dressed so we can go outside and play.”
“I’m going to where my favorite shirt,” Savannah Lynn said as she pulled out her dresser drawer.
“What’s your favorite shirt?” Ava Anne asked.
“My polnailish shirt,” Savannah Lynn replied.
Ava Anne twisted her face. “Your what shirt?”
“My polnailish shirt.”
Savannah Lynn dug through one very large drawer and finally came out with the shirt. It was a white turtleneck with a pink and red print. The print was of lipstick and nail polish.
“Savannah Lynn, that’s nail polish not polnailish,” Ava Anne said.
“Whatever,” replied Savannah Lynn.
When Ava Anne and Savannah Lynn were fully dressed, they tip toed down the hall and toward the kitchen where Momma was making blueberry muffins.
“Good morning, girls,” Momma said as she glanced up from her work.
“Mom,” Ava Anne said in a whiny voice, “Savannah Lynn keeps calling it polnailish. And it’s not polnailish it’s nail polish! Make her stop.”
Momma stared at Ava Anne for a moment and grinned; she looked at Savannah Lynn in her lipstick and polnailish print shirt.
“She can call it whatever she wants, Ava Anne,” Momma replied.
“But, Mom! It’s so annoying. Why can’t she just use the right words?”
By now, Savannah Lynn had grown tired of the conversation and was in the living room watching cartoons.
“Ava Anne, she’s only five years old and it’s cute. So let her say polnailish if she wants to, ok?” Momma said.
Momma was not in the mood for Ava Anne’s whining, nor was she in a hurry to turn her little five year old into a big girl.
“Ugh! Fine.” Ava Anne said as she quickly turned and left the kitchen.
“What do you want to play, Savannah Lynn?” Ava Anne asked.
“Want to paint my nails?” asked Savannah Lynn.
“I guess. What color nail polish do you want?”
“I want purple polnailish, please,” Savannah Lynn said with a smile.
“Ok. Purple nail polish.”
“Yep. Purple polnailish.”
“Whatever,” Ava Anne said.
“Polnailish,” Savannah Lynn replied.