Thingamababy

Let’s start with a horrific story about a 6-year-old girl having her scalp ripped off by a dog in a neighbor’s yard. Terrible, frightening story yes, but I feel like giving the girl a high-five for the question she asked her father as she was being transported to the hospital. She remained calm. She didn’t cry.

She asked, “Daddy, can you see my brain?”

I love smart kids.

So, here’s my far less interesting, not horrific story. Some time ago, I was typing at my computer when my 5-year-old daughter approached me with an empty tissue box in hand.

“Papa, do you want this tissue box?” (for a project I’ll be blogging about later)

“Yes, thank you.” [I take the box and begin inspecting it.]  “Where did you find it?”

“It was on the floor.”

“Ohhh, yuck!” [I flick the box to the floor and run to the bathroom to wash my hands.]  Loud voice: “How disgusting. Eeeew, why would you give me something that had been on the floor? Yuck!” [Followed by more faux melodramatic comments.]

Yesterday, at least a week later, she offered me another empty tissue box under identical circumstances.

“Papa, would you like this tissue box? It’s empty.”

“Where did you find it?”

[Giving me a disapproving eye-rolling head tilt] “Papa, it doesn’t matter where the box came from.”

I burst out laughing and gave her a high-five.

Tuesday, October 20th, 2009Observations