As Ambriel sat in the bathtub getting her hair washed, she turned to me with an interesting theory.
A: I think I know where they got the idea for bathtubs.
Me: Oh really? Where?
A: Well, everyone was getting tired of having to just wash in the lake, cause that's all they had, and they didn't have soap. [thoughtful pause] Or they did have soap, but they didn't have anywhere to put it where it wouldn't all get used up at once, except on land. So they made bathtubs.
Now if I could just get her to tell me who "they" are, we'd be totally ready to contribute to the Wikipedia page on bathtubs...
Bonus story:
One of Ambriel's greatest features is her wild imagination, but like Anne Shirley before her, it can also get her into trouble. Especially on really dark nights when we are leaving a friend's house in the "country" that doesn't have all of the street lights that my little "city" girl is used to.
A: [following a lengthy discussion of why Christians can be killed or hurt but not turned into Zombies or other similar monsters] But what if someone came and TOOK you, Momma? What would happen to me then?
Me: Tell me the exact scenario you're afraid of and I will tell you what would really happen.
A: Okay. So. What if an octopus that lived on the land came up behind you and squeezed you really tightly with all those arms and put you somewhere, like a chair, but with something to hold you there. Because this is a really smart octopus that can think of things like that. And then he tried to turn you into one of him, what would happen then?
Me: [sigh] Well, first of all, an octopus can't live on the land because it wouldn't be able to move or breathe. The closest you could come is a spider, and even the biggest of those wouldn't be able to squeeze me. If you were with me, I would die before I would let anything hurt you, and if that happened, you would just get to live with one of the many people who love you and want what is best for you, and I would be fine because I would be in Heaven and could still watch over you.
A: [smiling tentatively] Alright. And you know, if it happened while we were at our friends' house, I could just stay with them! [smiling excitedly]
Me: [bigger sigh] Yes you could.
My reassurances, sadly, were only convincing until we reached home and she realized Daddy wasn't home and the dog was outside so a giant land octopus could easily be hiding in her closet. Sigh.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
The Continuing Cactus Saga
I thought I would be writing more, but breaks can be so all consuming! I found myself telling this story again last night, however, and thought it was high time I shared it on here.
As we were packing all of our things to leave our apartment and head home for the summer, I found myself talking out loud listing all of the things I still needed to accomplish before we could leave. I wasn't necessarily directing this monologue toward Ambriel, but I discovered that she was definitely listening.
You see, one thing I was trying to calculate was how many more trips it would take me to load the car. I thought I could do it in just a few, when I remembered the cactus and started complaining about how difficult it would be to carry it and other things at the same time and saying how much I wished that she were able to carry it.
I sighed and continued with my labor, not giving the cactus another thought until about 40 minutes later when I was actually ready to carry it out to the car. My first clue that Ambriel had been busy was when my thumb slipped into the potting soil and got very wet. I was surprised and looked down to see what was going on. What I saw looked more like a small sea than the desert home of our little succulent.
Me: "Ambriel, did you water your cactus again?"
A: "Yes."
Me: "How much did you give it?!"
A: "Two full cups plus another half cup."
Me: "But you just watered it yesterday! Why did you give it so much?"
A: "Well, I thought you might decide to leave it here for the summer since you didn't want to carry it, and I didn't want it to get thirsty so I gave it LOTS of water to last a LONG time."
A clearly logical answer, I'll grant her, but I was sure it would be the death of the cactus. It ended up riding shot gun for the trip home so I had a front row seat to a demonstration of how vibrations cause liquefaction (thank you Dr. Frankovitz for the high school science lessons that still stick) i.e. the cactus was looking like the leaning tower of Pisa, held up only by its prickers sticking into my upholstery.
By the time we got home, the cactus had absorbed so much of the water that the pink bulb-y thing on top looked like it was going to burst, and Ambriel was crying quietly out of remorse for probably killing it. It was touch and go for a few days, but with the help of a few very sunny days, the soil eventually dried out and our little pink pricker is still with us.
And I hope, Ambriel has learned an important lesson about watering in moderation.
As we were packing all of our things to leave our apartment and head home for the summer, I found myself talking out loud listing all of the things I still needed to accomplish before we could leave. I wasn't necessarily directing this monologue toward Ambriel, but I discovered that she was definitely listening.
You see, one thing I was trying to calculate was how many more trips it would take me to load the car. I thought I could do it in just a few, when I remembered the cactus and started complaining about how difficult it would be to carry it and other things at the same time and saying how much I wished that she were able to carry it.
I sighed and continued with my labor, not giving the cactus another thought until about 40 minutes later when I was actually ready to carry it out to the car. My first clue that Ambriel had been busy was when my thumb slipped into the potting soil and got very wet. I was surprised and looked down to see what was going on. What I saw looked more like a small sea than the desert home of our little succulent.
Me: "Ambriel, did you water your cactus again?"
A: "Yes."
Me: "How much did you give it?!"
A: "Two full cups plus another half cup."
Me: "But you just watered it yesterday! Why did you give it so much?"
A: "Well, I thought you might decide to leave it here for the summer since you didn't want to carry it, and I didn't want it to get thirsty so I gave it LOTS of water to last a LONG time."
A clearly logical answer, I'll grant her, but I was sure it would be the death of the cactus. It ended up riding shot gun for the trip home so I had a front row seat to a demonstration of how vibrations cause liquefaction (thank you Dr. Frankovitz for the high school science lessons that still stick) i.e. the cactus was looking like the leaning tower of Pisa, held up only by its prickers sticking into my upholstery.
By the time we got home, the cactus had absorbed so much of the water that the pink bulb-y thing on top looked like it was going to burst, and Ambriel was crying quietly out of remorse for probably killing it. It was touch and go for a few days, but with the help of a few very sunny days, the soil eventually dried out and our little pink pricker is still with us.
And I hope, Ambriel has learned an important lesson about watering in moderation.
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