If they asked me, I could write a book

Last night my sister showed me a little book that my niece Cameron was making. On the cover was a pastoral scene with some trees and grass, and written across the top was the title in Cameron's sturdy first-grade printing: The Pork Book.

"She needs to work on her letters," Mary said. "It's supposed to say The Park Book."

"Yeah, I wondered why a six-year-old was writing a book on government spending," I said.