Santa Fe

I've told this story to almost everyone, I think, but here it is anyway, because it is so quintessentially Willa.

She was enjoying a lunch of plain brown rice (I know, weird, but she LOVES it). She was using a spoon which happens to be a Christmas spoon, with reindeer on it (we are not slaves to the calendar around here). She pointed to the spoon and said, "Moose!" I really think by 21 months of age a person should know the difference between a moose and a reindeer, don't you? So I said, "You know, I think those are reindeer. See, it's a Christmas spoon. Reindeer pull Santa's sleigh." Willa responds, "Santa!" I say, "Yes, Santa," thinking that perhaps she remembers something about him from Christmas. But then she says, clear as day, "Santa Fe!" I just look at her. Anyone who knows Dave knows that he is a train guy, and the Santa Fe is his railroad of choice. But- no way did Willa just say Santa Fe. She must have noticed the dumb look on my face, so she explained in her best work-with-me-here-mommy voice, "The choo-choo."

I love it. So much. For one thing, I love that she loves trains as much as he does. Plus, I love that when you say Santa to her, it doesn't mean some fat guy in a red suit. It means trains.