“Oh my, Edward!”

I turned around in my chair to find Clara standing in the middle of the room unraveling a wad of blue yarn.

“I’m sorry, what?”

She looked up for a frustrated second. “Just this yarn!” She held up a web of it and shook it between us.

“No, no, no.” I shook my head. “Who is Edward?”

She shrugged, going back to her work. “It’s just…” she trailed off. “It’s something Lydia says.” She glanced up. “You know… Because she can’t…” The little girl took a few steps forward and leaned in conspiratorially to whisper, “Because she can’t say the G-word.”

“God? She can’t say ‘Oh my, God’, so instead, she says Edward? So, is Edward God?”

“No! Just…” she thought about it for a second or two. “Just, no… It’s like when you see something and you are like,” she threw a hand up against her chest and gasped, “Oh my Edward!’

“Uh huh…” I narrowed my eyes, “Edward. But who is Edward?”

“I don’t know! No one! Just Edward!” She spun herself in a half circle chasing a loose piece of yarn and ended up getting her legs tangled and tried to dance her way out of it with her back to me.

Just then a second little girl collapsed down the stairs and saw her sister wrestling with the ball of yarn and losing.

“Oh my, Edward!” the younger girl exclaimed, fanning away her shock with a book.

“Okay, who?”

She pointed at her sister.

“No, who is Edward?!”

She tilted her head and looked at me as if I were speaking a different language.

“Alright guys,” I said finally. “No more ‘Oh My, Edwards’. I don’t think I like that.”

Lydia held up her hands in protest, “That’s not fair! Why?”

“Who is Edward?!”

Clara spun in another half circle and fell onto the couch completely cocooned in yarn.

I saw Lydia’s mouth open to say something in reaction and then she caught herself and peered at me out the corner of her eye. “Oh… no?” she said softly and speculatively glancing back and forth between me and her sister.