The Phillies won again tonight–clinching the NL East Division championship.
But at bedtime, Mara asked me, “Do you remember on Clifford they said ‘games can’t come through’?”
“‘Dreams can come true,’ Mara,” I corrected. “They said, ‘Dreams can come true.'”
“No, games! Games. Can’t. Come. Through,” she repeated, emphasizing each word.
It took me back to my childhood, to a time when my sister and I argued with my Mom about a kids’ Bible song on a cassette from grandma. The song mentioned the “castle of my heart,” but Mary and I insisted the kids were singing about the “yestle” of their hearts.
Mom got out the dictionary and had us look up ‘yestle’ and tell her what it meant. Being the very logical child that I was, I didn’t accept the argument that the word’s mere exclusion from the dictionary proved its non-existence.
“Well, they didn’t put it in there,” I told my mom in conclusion.
I knew I would lose this battle with my daughter, so I quit arguing with her.
Okay, Mara. Games can’t come through. Goodnight, Sweetheart.
And go Phillies.
Dreams can come true!