Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Mommy, Let my people Go!

Coming out of the bathroom, Cora met me at the door yesterday. She had my keys in her hand, and she spewed out a half intelligible sentence. "Mommy the people are stuck." she said when I asked her to repeat.

"People?" I ask. Wrapping my towel closer around me, and trying to hear noise by my front door.

"Stuck." She adds again, as if I'm being excessively dense. Two year olds must think so quite often. Most people just can't understand them, even though they are wasting all this energy on talking when they could be trying to turn your sofa cushions into snowflakes.

I decide that any people, real or fictitious would rather see me clothed than naked (specific party excluded), and calm her down with an, "In a second, help mommy get dressed first."

whipping through my drawers and pulling on clothes, I retrieve the fore offered keys from Coras hand.

"Where are the people stuck, sweetheart?" I ask.

"In the box." she says. Leading me into the living room. She pulls me over to the fake train set that is lieing on the floor still in its container. "See, they stuck. You unlock them."

Then showing an aptitude for lateral reasoning that surprised me. "Daddy tape them, see!" She points. It is nice to know she suspects Daddy of locking up the imaginary people on the train not me.

Releaved that I wasn't expected to aid some silly Georgians who decided to try driving in a Michigan winter, I sat down and began to help Cora assemble the train. As I pulled out the track, she pulled out the cars. As I assembled the track, she peered into the box. "Where are the people? Where are the houses?" she asked me. She lays down the box and points to the village miniatures they use to make the train set look very appealing.

Fortunately there were people on the train. I explained that those houses were just in the picture, and she could make her own if she liked.

She didn't. She was too busy letting the train run into her hands and then waiting impatiently for me to put it back on the tracks.

I now understand that adults aren't the only ones taken in by false advertising. My husband should thank me for not telling her that he hadn't managed to tape the box shut in time and they escaped.

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