As I was cooking dinner last night, Kisae was at her usual spot on a stool at the kitchen counter. She was writing out the ABC's, as usual, and talking, the conversation bouncing around as conversations with 4-year-old's usually do.
And then quite unexpectedly she told me she was going to write a letter to Barack Obama. Because she wanted to ask him, "I play with his girls?"
So she got a new sheet of paper and told me she was going to write, "Dear Barack Obama. I go to your house and play with your children?"
She didn't, of course, write those sentences. But she did insist I tell her how to spell Barack and Malia and Sascha and then the word "president," and she wrote those out very carefully, in her lopsided but oh-so-cute, 4-year-old hand.
I think she figures her White House play date is all but set.