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The following was dictated to me by my daughter Miranda.

I got a guinea pig and I named him Scout.

Isn't he cute?

I got a guinea pig because I can't get a dog (yet) because my mom's allergic and our house is too small.

Scout

Scout has two little dots on his head.  I call those merit badges.  And he has a little white mark on his neck that I call a merit badge sash.

Scout makes the cutest little squeaking sound; it sounds like he is so content.

I got the idea to get a guinea pig when I saw the Zeke and Luther episode about a mouse named Lucky and when my mom and I read Emmy and the Incredible Shrinking Rat; the Chipman's recommended it to us.

Emmy could understand the rats because one rat bit her.  Scout bit me already — but I can't yet understand what he's saying.  All I hear is squeaking.  Wouldn't that be neat if I could talk to Scout?

MirandaScout

In fact, if I could have a superpower, I would either turn into animals and/or I would talk to them.  If I could talk to Scout, I would ask him:

1)  What's your real name?  (Wouldn't it be cool if he said Scout?)
2)  How old are you?  (Because baby guinea pig doesn't really describe how old he is… I don't know the difference between guinea pig years and human years.)
3)  How do you like you new name?
4) Why do you like tunneling in my blanket?
5)  Do you like carrots or apples better?

***

Is there something that your children really, really want but you have to say no to?  I am allergic to dogs — and yet Miranda so very much wants one.   We found a ‘yes' in a guinea pig.   We have to say ‘no' so much, can we find more yes-es?

Even in dictating this to me, it validates her, her ideas, especially because I haven't edited her thought process.   It's important that our girls feel their ideas and thought process can stand on their own.

I believe that Miranda likes to guest blog, in part, because I like to blog.  As you are dreaming, can you bring your children along?

Would your daughter or one of the young girls that you know like to guest blog?

My one stipulation is that she asks me herself; and then we'll be off.

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