Another curious thing (she said)

Lucy really loves listening to audiobooks. Although Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me and now, Science Friday are still big hits here, she generally prefers to listen to the stories we've checked out from the library or downloaded. The first hits were Roald Dahl's The BFG and The Witches. These, though, have the side effect of raising her anxieties about giants and witches (and clearly that's already an issue in this house without these books). So Jake picked up a Beverly Cleary audiobook -- Henry Huggins -- and our house has been nearly constantly filled with the sound of Stockard Channing's voice (she does a fabulous job with these). We've also acquired Ramona the Pest and Beezus and Ramona. They're terrific. I can't believe I didn't read these when I was a kid. But to get to my point here. Ahem.

Lately, we've noticed that when she's talking to us, or even just to herself (which she sometimes does), Lucy has been providing a narrator's voice. For instance:

Lucy: I want some more milk. she said.
Lucy: Mom, where are my stickers? she exclaimed.
Lucy: Move over, Pa! she said pushing him.

To be clear, she is speaking aloud (though in a different, slightly quieter voice) the stuff in italics. It is really, really weird. And if you ask her about it, she ignores you. So basically, she's her own narrator.

A side note more specific to the books: I just looked up Henry Huggins and discovered to my shock that it was published in 1950. Beverly Cleary is 95, and she's awesome. We've long wanted to visit Portland, Oregon, but now there's yet another reason (a Beverly Cleary pilgrimage).

Anyway, readers, given recent goth-parenting posts and the onset of this new narration situation, anyone want to suggest how much money we should be socking away for Lucy's future therapy bill?