In Hamilton fashion, this skill is choosing to emerge in unusual ways. A little while back, Leah and one of her therapists came upstairs after a session. I chatted with Monica for a few minutes while Leah pulled out a stuffed Maisy she has had since she w
as a baby. Maisy comes and goes, forgotten for chunks of time before finding favor again, usually right about when Leah's sixth sense tells her we are thinking about including Maisy in our next trip to the Salvation Army. Monica, whose home is not yet overrun with small children and enormous quantities of toys, was unfamiliar with Maisy. (If you've ever seen the cartoon version on Noggin, you might agree with the adage that ignorance is bliss.) So she asked Leah, "Who's that?" Leah replied, "That's Maisy." Monica commented that she had never heard of Maisy, and I was beginning to tell her about the children's books and aforementioned Noggin show, when Leah decided to continue the conversation. She told Monica, "Maisy's picking her nose."When we were done laughing, I noticed that Leah had, indeed, positioned Maisy's hand on the black tip of her nose. Touche.





