"I'm going to be the first woman in space," she informed her dad the other day.
He had to break the news to her that there have already been number of women in space.
"How many?" she wanted to know.
He guessed. About 20, he told her.
"Okay," she replied. "Then I'll be the twenty-first woman in space."
If there is one thing I know about Abby, it's that she doesn't give up easily.
To buy ourselves some time, we bought her a new space encyclopedia, which she proceeded to read cover to cover.
And now, when I can't get her excited about our handwriting lessons, I can set her up with her space book and assign her the job of copying one of the pictures and writing a description of it for me. She's going to make a space book of her own, she explained to me.
"It won't be heavy like this one," she went on. "That way we can bring it with us."
Bring it with us where? I asked.
"To space."
I should have known.
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