Little behind, but here we go.
Had another kid with us all day, a former classmate of hers. And one of his coping mechanisms, I think - what do I know, I don't have a degree in child psychology; but then again, what to child psychologists know, they only have a degree in child psychology - is to ask endless meaningless questions. For example, on the way home from the library:
He: Can we go down this street?
Madge was extremely (that adverb is an understatement) frustrated with him. At one point she said, "I know I can't call him dummy, but I wish I could."
He is pretty good-natured (and had been bugging me, too), so I said, "You know what? Go ahead."
So she said, "Dummy!" and we all laughed and she felt better.
Then, of course, I had to make her stop.
(And, for some reason, Coco didn't pick up on the name-calling. Lucky all around.)