Wishin’ and Hopin’

At breakfast this morning Piper announced that she’d be honeymooning in California. We’re used to declarations like this daily. We take them seriously and always play along. You might wonder where this one came from; we know Piper well enough not to ask. Why ask why? is our motto.

“Hmm,” I said, sipping coffee, “how will you get there?”

“By carriage.”

“Like horse drawn carriage?” I asked. “That will take awhile.”

“Then I’ll go to Paris,” Piper said.

“You can’t go to Paris by horse drawn carriage, P,” Sissy informed her. “Unless, of course, your horses can swim.” I think she snorted then at her own joke.

“You could ride your horse drawn carriage onto a ship and take that to Paris,” Daddy offered. He never wants to crush Piper’s dreams.

“Can I take a ship to California?” P asked.

We all looked at each other. “Yes,” I nodded, “you can, I suppose. It will take a long time because you’ll have to go through the Panama Canal or the Northwest Passage. Or you can take a boat and carry it across the Rockies.”

“Who are you going to marry, anyway?” Sissy asked.

Piper shrugged. “I haven’t worked out that detail yet.”

Popping Popcorn Pops

Piper went on her first kindergarten field trip last week. They travelled by school bus to a local farm. This was Piper’s take home haul.

She was quite proud of how much she learned. When I asked her if she’d had fun, she unpacked her goods onto the floor and Professor Piper delivered the following lecture:

“First we’re going to discuss this cotton. See, it’s a pod. This will bloom. There’s cotton in there. They grow it in the fields on the farm. That’s how we get clothes. You’ll see.”

Then Piper picked up her pumpkin and demonstrated how you properly pick a pumpkin from the patch. It’s not as easy as it looks. It takes strategy.

“Finally, this is an ear of corn. We’ll be making popcorn from this. You’ll be helping me, Mom. You’ll need to be patient. Popcorn popping takes time. Then we’ll eat it.”

So, we did, of course. I’d never popped popcorn from the cob. It’s remarkably easy. Piper and I watched a demo on YouTube before we began. We took the corn and put it in a brown bag. Then we closed the bag and put it in the microwave. Then Piper climbed up on the counter and pushed the “popcorn” button. Then we did a popcorn dance while we waited for the popcorn to pop. “It makes it taste better,” Piper reassured me while we listened to the kernels burst. Then we dumped out the fluffy white popcorn into a bowl and ate our feast. Professor Piper gave it an A+.