Phonics, Motorcycles & Mourning Michael
Letter after letter, we rolled our way toward M. And M was a cinch, because our younger daughter loved (and still loves) motorcycles. She spied a bright red motorcycle while we were driving underneath the arches of a Roman aqueduct on our way out of Evora. "M is for motorcycle!" she exclaimed. "That's right, sweetie, " I said. "M is for mo-tor-cy-cle."