OCTOBER---AT LAST

Our yesterday was one of bright sun and drifts of leaves and sweepings and walks---the October we did not have. And yes, we have recovered our long and cordial relationship with the broom, though the little contretemps at the store had strained our civility a bit.

Our girl was all bright in pink, with one loopy curl up on a whalespout, and all the rest in their customary ringlets; she delved into the bowl of my ponytail elastics, adorning both wrists with half-dozens of bright pink and blue and green stretchy bracelets, grabbed her Minnie Mouse sunglasses, and was up the stairs before I could find my clogs.

We made a quick trip to the grocery store, Chris heading one way with his buggy, and she and I hit the produce for apples and plums and the fattest grapes I’ve ever encountered---when I cut her portion, these have to be cut into SIX pieces---they’re like plump, juicy pink pullet eggs. (If you click on the picture to enlarge, that's still not enough---I measured one up to the screen).

We’d meet in the aisle now and again, for a quick consultation on timing and even quicker exchange of passenger---she moved from her perch on the Charmin pillow in my cart to the Coke Zero bench in his, merrily greeting passersby with a float wave or a cheerful “Hi!” (Doesn’t take much to entertain me, folks).

We went on quick darts into the bank, the pet food store, then to Steak N Shake, where we built a snazzy cardboard car and encrusted it with myriad stickers of headlights, license plates, quad-pipes (one on hood, the other on roof), spoilers (down the door) and a set of killin’ rims (distributed like mylar balloons across the sides). We had chicken fingers and fries and a little cup of cheese “dipdip” (she has "fast food" perhaps once a month, and the only other time she's had fries with us was at this same SnS, where she interrupted her munching to confide loudly to the adjoining table of Firefighters that "TEETEE, he go TEETEE" when Chris headed for the restroom, and for all the time til he re-emerged). The key to the enjoyment of this monumental treat is the whisper of the word as each bite is baptized---this child is not only a double-dipper---she nips a bite, dips, nips, ad infinitum, so long as the fry shall last. I don't think we've had such a quiet meal since she was born.

A quick cleanup with her handy-dandy baggied washcloth-wrung-out-in-lavender-wash from home, then home to a little foray out into the piles and piles of leaves as I swept them up and onto the now-resting hosta beds, walk the dog, and in to a thorough wash of hands and face, along with a good brushing to rid her fleecy shirt and pants of leaf debris, and so to nap.

She woke smiling lazily, came down to her requested “tea-time” of peaches and yogurt (and then a very slim slice of 7-up poundcake, since she won’t return until next week. We went upstairs to await her Mommy; she danced around Fuzzypup in the kitchen; I sat on the top step of the stairs. She handed me things from the tall canning-cupboard; I accumulated quite a stack of tuna cans, green beans and corn, as we sang “Row Your Boat” and ABC song, counting out the groceries one by one.

Her Mommy had been here but a moment, and Our Girl suddenly lifted her arms over her head and announced loudly, “I’m so BORED!” We looked at each other in bewilderment; she’s barely TWO---where DID she get THAT phrase? Then I remembered---in her favorite TV show, little nine-minute claymation odysseys into the lives and doings of Fifi Flowertot and all her Gardentot friends, Pip Gooseberry, the littlest of the lot, says that in one episode, and GUESS WHAT??!!! They all get together and build him a playground---a lettuce-leaf trampoline, flowerstalk swingset, and a seesaw.

Never underestimate the listening power of a two-year-old---anything may emerge in that baby voice, whether the words are understood or not.

The two ladies headed home; I sought refuge in a hot shower, comfy jammies and two ibuprofen, made three grilled cheese sandwiches on many-grain bread, with one each of the cheeses from Yoder’s Cheese Shop last weekend. Two quick slices carved from the big ham about to be put on the grill today for the weekend’s meals, sizzled in the skillet after the sandwiches; some celery sticks, and a dollop each of peach preserves and the new Tangerine/Jalapeno jam from Yoder’s. Lie to Me and Fringe and an early bedtime with Agatha Christie.

Exhausted sigh.