Last night we had our Passover seder. On her way up to bed, I had the following conversation with Sarah.
Sarah: Thanks for dinner mom, all the food was so delicious.
Me: You're welcome, sweetie. Sarah, you are a good kid, and I am happy to cook for you.
Sarah: I know. But my goodness is a testament to my parents.
And thus concludes another scene of domestic harmony.
And yet, as satisfying as it is to pat myself on the back, I can't help but remember Pygmalion, and marvel at the ways in which my charge, a vast improvement on the original, will continue to surpass, outwit, and outsmart me, and generally succeed in getting me to do her bidding.