Wednesday, October 23, 2013

All Growed Up

I know that I haven’t posted in a while. What I didn’t know is that – in Lucy’s world – time works a bit differently. It’s kind of like dog years, I guess. Just to illustrate that point, let me share a conversation that I had with Lucy one night this week:

LUCY (as she’s sitting at the dinner table across from me): Hi, Mommy! I drived over to see you!

ME: You did? What did you drive?

LUCY: My car! It’s purple.

ME: I see.  Do you have a driver’s license?

LUCY: No! I don’t need that!

ME: I’m not sure that the police would agree.  So, are you here for a visit then?

LUCY: Yes. A dinner visit. Thank you for the chicken nuggets.

ME: You are very welcome. It’s lovely to see you, Lucy. Did you drive far?

LUCY: Yes. From my house.

ME: You don’t live with me anymore?

LUCY: No, silly! I’m old!

ME: How old are you?

LUCY: I’m all growed up. I’m five!

ME: The ripe old age of five, huh? What about kids? Did you bring them with you?

LUCY: Yes!

ME: How many kids do you have?

LUCY: Two.

ME: Are they boys or girls?

LUCY: They’re girls, of course!

ME: Of course. What are their names?

LUCY: Hmmmm….Peppa and Suzy Sheep.

ME: Interesting names. Are they twins?

LUCY: Mommy, no! One is a pig, and one is a sheep.

ME: Silly me. How old are they?

LUCY: Six and seven.

ME: I see. And are you married?

LUCY: Yes.

ME: Who are you married to?

LUCY: Senan.

ME: Senan?

LUCY: Yes.

ME: Your baby cousin?

LUCY: Yes. But he’s all growed up too. He’s five. (Leans over to me and whispers) Mommy, I'm just pretending!

ME: Got it. So, in your pretend world, you and Senan are both five, you’re married to each other, and you have six and seven year old non-human daughters. Do I have that right?

LUCY: Yes.

ME: And that makes sense to you?

LUCY: Yes.

ME: We may need to work on your counting a bit more…among other things.

LUCY: Okay, but I have to go now. C’mon, girls! Let’s go to the store!

ME (waving goodbye): Can’t wait for your next visit. Drive safely.

LUCY (whispering condescendingly): Mommy, I’m not really leaving. I’m pretending, remember?

ME: I know, baby. And you know that there’s no rush to grow up, right?

LUCY: But is there pudding?

ME: Of course.

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