Conversations with 5 Year Old Lola

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At Target, Lola says that she would like to buy some nail polish. "Why?" I ask her. "Because when I grow up, I want to be an auntie," she says.

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At preschool, Lola sits down at the phonic work table. A parent asks, "What word would you like to spell?"  Lola replies, "Prisoner."  Without skipping a beat, the parent helps Lola spell "prisoner" out of magnetic letters.  "What would you like to spell next?" the parent asks.  "Jail," says Lola.

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A series of poorly timed events resulted in Lola attending my annual Pap smear.  I wanted her to sit in the chair next to the medical table, but she insisted on being in the trenches and the nurse, who was so thrilled to have someone fascinated with female anatomy by her side, encouraged the entire ordeal. Since the appointment, Lola has insisted that there is an airplane inside my body. I asked if she was referring to the speculum tool, but was met with opposition. "No, Mommy!" she yelled, annoyed by my suggestion. "I said, an AIRPLANE, not a SPECULUM."  I have no idea what she is talking about and I'm too scared to google it, so I'm just going to be believe her.