conversations

Here are some conversations I have had with Esther recently:

Esther and I make a weekly visit to an assisted living center near us, which is named Sunrise.  On our last trip back from our new hometown, we stayed in a motel midway.  Esther woke up very early in the morning (not unusual for her when she's off her routine), so in order to let Tim get his sleep out I took her on over to breakfast.  The TV in the breakfast room was on, and as the program moved towards a commercial break, the news anchor announced something like, "This is 9 News at Sunrise."  Esther looked around and protested, "We're not at Sunrise!  We're at a motel!"

Esther is getting as much enjoyment from plans for the new house as we are.  One day she asked if we could have a play structure in our back yard.  I answered that we would have to figure out whether we had enough space and how much money one would cost.  She volunteered, "I could help!  I have a piggy bank!"  (Actually she called it a monkey pig, but I figured out what she meant--there is a Curious George episode about a piggy bank, hence the monkey.)

She sat down on my bare leg one day when I hadn't shaved recently and complained, "Your spines are prickling me."

We were watching a downpour out the window one day, and Esther asked where all the water was coming from.  I explained that the clouds got full of water and then it had to fall down.  She giggled, "Yeah, the clouds are wetting!"  (Wetting is our family term for urinating--she thought clouds wetting was pretty funny.)

Sadly, I don't remember the context for this one anymore.  I think we might have been watching someone interacting with their dog.  Esther said seriously, "I don't have a dog.  Or a baby."  (Sometimes I wonder if she understands the distinction between babies and pets--any time she sees a baby she eagerly asks, "May I pet it?")

One day on our way home from the library, there was a woman standing on the sidewalk outside of our apartment complex talking loudly and with great feeling to the air around her.  As we passed, I heard her say, "My daughter is dead and [something I didn't catch] killed her...".  I didn't know how to respond, so I ignored her, but I didn't feel good about that either, and Esther either caught my discomfort or felt some of her own, because she clearly was unnerved by the woman.  As we got farther away from her, Esther asked, "Why was that woman so angry?"  I didn't want to introduce the concept of family members dying, so I told Esther just that something really sad had happened to the woman, and sometimes when people have really sad feelings they use angry words because they think it makes them feel better.  Esther answered, "When I feel sad I cry, and then I feel better."  I thought that was quite an insight for a three-year-old, especially since I distinctly remember realizing that myself in my late teens!  Or maybe I did know it when I was Esther's age and had forgotten in the interim.

Back when we first knew we were going to move I got Esther some "moving day treats" (chocolate candies) that she could eat one of every day to count down the days until our move.  She has mostly lost interest in them recently, so I had to remove several to maintain the correct number in the container.  Having just watched me fill a bag with stuff to give away, Esther fixed me with a stern eye and said, "Don't even think about getting rid of those!"