MyThreeDaughters

At breakfast this morning, Fontaine announced, “I want to be famous.”
She’s almost six and has probably become used to this response – actually, it’s probably precisely the response she wanted – but the questions came fast after that:
What do you know about being famous?
Who told you about being famous?
What’s being famous mean?
“It’s when everybody knows you.”
OK, OK, smarty pants, so you know what famous means.
So, naturally, I mentioned one of the more noble paths to fame.
“Hey, you could invent something that saved a bunch of lives.”
(I thought about saying: “Hey, I could get lucky and sing a mind-numbingly repetitive country cross-over hit, wait 15 years, then pimp you out to Disney for a Tween show,” but I refrained.)
Flashing through our minds? Home-girl blondie up there, famous for being rich. I was a little scared to Google her, because you know, famous for that one thing? The one that *accidentally* got released on the Internet, which led to her getting famous by having a show about being famous and stupid?
If people just hadn’t confused “infamy” with “fame,” well, maybe heads wouldn’t turn when Six-year-old said the word.