When cleaning up the books and magazines in the livingroom a few days back, I picked up one of the Book of Mormons that was given to the kids by their old bishop. Wondering whose was not in the bedroom, I opened it to find that it was Peter's. Since he was working with me, I said to him:
"Peter! Look what I found!"
He eagerly grabbed it and started turning to the pictures (his favorite part) and said very excitedly
"My Book of Norman! You found my Book of Norman!"
At first I wasn't sure I'd heard him right, but then later, when he was suppose to have taken it to his room but didn't, he came out and told me again that he had his Book of Norman. Laughing (because Norman is the cat he plays with at grandma's several times a week), I corrected him. He repeated Mormon, and then proceeded to tell me he was putting away his Book of Norman.
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