The other evening, Matthew and I were having a long, fascinating conversation of the kind that we often have these days. Â (Oh, how I love five-year-olds!) Â Somehow, we got on the subject of the Notre Dame football team, and I decided it was a good time to show off my knowledge of French.
“Do you know what ‘Notre Dame’ means?” Â I asked.
He shook his head.
“It means ‘Our Lady’ in French,” I told him. Â “The university is named after a very important lady. Â Do you know which lady it is?”
“You?” he said promptly.
I tried to hide my smile. “No, not me,” I said. “It’s named after a lady who is even more important than I am.”
He thought for about a second, then his eyes lit up.  “Grandma?”
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