Lasting impression

Sadly the summer Olympics have come to a close. Oh how I did enjoy staying up entirely too late to watch most of the action. I have always loved the Olympics, even as a young child when I dreamed of one day becoming the next Janet Evans or Summer Sanders. I was on my local YMCA's swim team for a couple of years and enjoyed swimming immensely, although the Olympics would never have been a reality for me as I hated swimming competitively and only participated in the two big local meets every year as I hated the anxiety and butterflies that came with the public events. Just as the Olympic swimmers never fail to mesmerize me, the gymnasts this year apparently held the same presence in the Girl's mind. One in particular...

As we were standing in line this morning at Wal-Mart patiently waiting to unload and pay for our groceries, the Girl pointed to 'People' magazine, which prominently displayed a photo of Nastia Liukin and Shawn Johnson on the cover, and excitedly exclaimed, "Look Momma, Shawn Johnson!" What?! I know that she loved watching the gymnastics but I certainly never expected her to remember anyone's name! She then proceeded to take the magazine down from the rack and started turning the pages looking for more pictures. I helped her to find the article and while I unloaded the groceries from the cart she poured over the pictures. Once our full cart was unloaded I told her that it was time to put the magazine back to which she quickly replied, "I'm not done reading the story yet." Then, a few minutes later as I was buckling her into her carseat she asked, "Can we go to Shawn Johnson's house?" I just had to laugh.

This seemingly new adoration (or maybe infatuation?) did not end there. As soon as we got home she put her Little People in their car, hooked up their tent trailer and started pretending that they were all headed to Shawn Johnson's house. This evening as I was making dinner the conversation began again.

the Girl: "Mom can we go to Shawn Johnson's house tomorrow?"
Me: "Shawn doesn't live in Marysville, she doesn't even live in the same state."
the Girl: "Where does she live?"
Me: "In Iowa. We'd have to take a plane to get to her house or drive for a really long time."
the Girl: "What color is her house?"
Me: "I don't know."
the Girl: "I think it's green like us or pink."

And with that the conversation ended as quickly as it began. I wonder, will she remember Shawn Johnson tomorrow?