This evening sitting at soccer, there was a little girl on the other team that everyone kept calling Kristina. Being that her name was stitched across the back of her jersey, I know it was her name and I know it was spelled with a K.
Steven climbs up on my lap during one of his off shifts and asks me, "Mommy, why is everyone calling that girl Kristina?"
"That's her name. It's one of the awesomest names you know." I am biased. I know this.
"Oh. So, Mommy, it's the same as your middle name, right?"
"No, Silly. Kristina is my first name."
"No it's not. You first name is Mommy."
What could I say? I love him!
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