I Scream. You Scream.

A Piper is observant. She goes through the day like Yoda sprinkling her wisdom.

After a nature walk and scavenger hunt this afternoon, we stopped for ice cream. Piper slurped up her melting cup and turned her attention to my cone.

“Can I have a bite of your cone, Mommy?”

I had been licking down the chocolate chip ice cream to the perfect cone bite. You know the one. I handed it over. Piper happily crunched the cake cone. She watched me get the next bite ready.

“Here. You can have my cup,” Piper volunteered. “I’ll finish your cone.”

I looked at the melted vanilla mess.

“It tastes better when you share,” Piper assured me. It didn’t. But watching her on a summer day eating ice cream may have been worth it.

After ice cream, Piper went swimming. Then she came home to a bath and dinner. While she was soaking the chlorine out, I leaned over the tub and Piper traced my face with her pruned fingers. “You know how come I know you’re my mom?” she asked.

“Because I’m bathing you and making your favorite ravioli for dinner?” I guessed.

“No. You have those lines on your face and those dark things under your eyes. All moms have those. That’s how I know you’re mine.”

More is More

We’re on vacation this week. Piper spent an awesome day binging on pizza, splashing in the pool, playing board games with cousins, being doted on by grandparents, and playing at a park.  Three minutes after we’d returned to our room, she began complaining, “I’m so bored!  We never have any fun! No one plays with me!”

Poor thing.

Cousin Tay saved the day and jumped in to read Piper stories. But it’s never as simple as reading a book out loud with a Piper. There are questions. Many questions. Each plot twist must be dissected. What ifs abound. Characters have to renamed. You can hardly get through a sentence without commentary. Cousin Tay was patient. She met each of Piper’s demands. As I was putting Piper to bed later she said, “Tay is the best reader in the world. She gets me.”