Tuesday night, Mark and I decided we both needed to go to Pri-Med as that most elegant of Southern illnesses, the crud, simply refuses to leave us alone even after two (Mark) and one (me) rounds of antibiotics, and it appeared we were headed South towards bronchitis. Since we went, of course, Kayla had to go too.
We had a rough start to the evening when I discovered that on the day when Kayla knew she had the most homework to get done for the week, she chose not to do a single bit of it at after school care. Not her best move with two sick parents! So she was working on long division in the back seat of the car, while I was trying to help her from the front seat while Mark drove. Long division is not the best subject to work on for homework at any time; she knows how to do it but wants someone to verify that each step is correct as she does it (not exactly equivalent to actual test conditions!) and if you don’t she tends to get frustrated. Still, we prevailed somehow.
When we got to Pri-Med, we had to wait for a while, which gave her time to finish the spelling and the long division, and then once we were in the examination room, we reviewed her science notes. The doctor came in, looked at us, and sent us home after two shots each (Kayla was quite relieved when she realized it was her parents and not she that had to take the shots) and more prescriptions.
It was on the way home that Kayla became thoughtful. It had started to rain and she had been chattering away in the back seat without my really paying attention (don’t tell me you don’t do that either sometimes as a parent!) when something she said caught my attention. I asked her to repeat it and she told me that she knew why clouds rained. I asked her why, and she told me that just like we get full of water and had to go the bathroom, the clouds get full of water and have to go to the bathroom too. That’s what I thought I had heard her say originally. It’s not the most elegant analogy but at the same time, I couldn’t really fault her logic, either. (When I was her age, we lived in San Diego and went to Sea World frequently, where they had a fountain show about water with a song, and the first lines of that song are indelibly etched in my brain for some reason – “The seas yield vapor to the skies, and the skies return it as rain.” Isn’t that close to the same thing she is talking about?)
Then she chattered away some more before announcing that she was starting to not like barbecue, so she was afraid she was turning into a veterinarian. We corrected her word choice to vegetarian, which she agreed was what she meant, and Mark explained that just because she didn’t necessarily like the barbecue at school anymore, didn’t mean that she wouldn’t like all barbecue, and that there were lots of other meats besides barbecue. (I promise, folks, we eat lots of meat at home, and most of the time it is not barbecue.) She was relieved, because I don’t think she really was ready to “turn into” a vegetarian.
I explained that at the end of the school year, (we have about three weeks left) the cafeteria probably is trying to use up everything it can so there isn’t anything left to spoil over the summer. This observation did not placate her; she reared up in outrage and said, “Good Grief! Why on earth don’t they use up all the cheese grits then!” I wanted to say it was because she probably had eaten all of the school’s stock already (last I heard, she gets six helpings of the things when they do have them at school) but I didn’t. After that she got sleepy, which ended her reflections and let us put a sweet, tired little girl to bed when she got home.
Have a great day everyone!