Friday, March 04, 2005
Dunno about you, but my kitchen can do without this. The avocado bowl kinda reminds me of the V lizard people that gave me nightmares when I was a kid. Dude, they ATE RATS!
Speaking of nightmares, Sophie woke up sobbing hysterically in the wee hours of the morning today. After she calmed down a bit, she said that she had dreamed about a plane falling on her. Poor thing. I dried her tears and assured her that she doesn't need to worry about that. She fell back asleep within a few minutes. Me, I flopped around in bed for a while, churning over my helplessness to do anything other than soothe her. Unfortunately, protecting her from her own imagination is beyond the scope of my parental abilities.
In general, Sean and I are not what I'd consider "protective" parents. I mean, sure, I still obsessively shuffle along all hunched over following Sophie as she walks, ready to grab her in case she trips. I'd pad and cushion the entire house if it were possible. But obsessively sheltering her from truth and the occasional minor disappointment? That's not realistic. I can't be the parent of the kid who has a psychological meltdown IN MIDDLE SCHOOL because of JUST finding out that there is no Santa Claus/Great Pumpkin/$50,000 from Bill Gates for forwarding an email to 10 friends.
Sophie likes to test our abilities to explain things. The endless asking of questions is her job as a two-year-old. We try to give basic - but honest and somewhat blunt - explanations to her questions. A couple of nights ago after having dinner at my parents' house, I asked Sophie what we had eaten. "Green beans! And mashed potatoes! And chicken!", she said.
"No, not chicken. It was pork," I corrected.
"Pork?" she asked, pausing for more explanation.
"Yep," I said, and then realized that Sophie was about to learn the lesson of Where Meat Comes From. We're not big mammal-eaters here at Cheezleton Manor, so although Sophie understands that chicken comes from the birds of the same name and fish comes from water-dwelling animals of the same name - how convenient is that, eh? - this was the first time that she'd be hearing that cute little farmyard critters are commonly cooked and eaten. Deciding that honesty was the best policy, even if drama resulted, I forged ahead: "Pork comes from pigs."
"Oh," she said quietly. I glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror. She was staring off into space, apparently processing the news. Did she make the association between pork and pigs, I wondered? Was she upset?
And then, she grinned and spoke: "Piggies are very tasty!"
# posted by Amanda at 7:36 AM |
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