She was three and ‘helping’ me make dinner. We were cooking stew and I had only the potatoes left to do. I reached into the bag and took one out, really tiny. I showed it to her.
‘Oh can I have it?’ she asked.
Why not, I thought? It was too small to peel anyway. However, he next one out was huge and she wanted that one too. ‘Okay,’ It told her, but there aren’t many left. I will need it back in a little.’
As I continued to work, the tiny potato in her hand became a baby and the large one its Mommy. She chatted away between them in the way small kids do.
But my bag of potatoes was running out. I was dreading asking for the Mommy one back in case she got upset, but there was no alternative if we were all to eat.
She gave it up with a smile, to my surprise.
And then the ‘baby’ started crying. ‘Mommy, Mommy. I want my Mommy.’
In her sweetest voice my little girl spoke to it. ‘Oh I am so sorry little baby, Mommy can’t come right now. Mommy’s getting boiled.’