Same level of despair

When we arrived home from daycare, I decided Lyla might benefit from a mini-lesson on how toasters and microwaves work. "The waffle is cold when it comes out of the freezer," I began, letting her touch one. "Oops, we don't put it in the mouth yet. It goes in the toaster."

"No."

"See, we push it down, and the toaster makes it hot. Um, let's move on. Feel this frozen chicken nugget."

"Ticken nuddet!"

"Yes, feel how cold it is?"

"Yeah." Her eyes became worried and distrustful.

"We put it in the microwave, and it becomes hot. Then we wait for it to cool."

At that moment the combined efforts of the toaster and microwave blew a fuse. I ran downstairs to reset the circuit breaker, then bolted back up to the kitchen.

"Ticken nuddet waffle!"

"They're not quite done yet, but almost. We just push 30 seconds over here and press the little handle down over here. Hey, do you want some cereal and raisins while we wait?"

Lyla felt that idea was full of flawed reasoning.


And in other news, once dinner was properly scarfed, Lyla headed to the living room. Julie and I sat in the kitchen and chatted about our respective days when suddenly we both sensed a palpable quiet. I exited the kitchen expecting to find Lyla cutting her hair or smoking a rolled up magazine, but instead she was fully engrossed in transferring stickers from a pumpkin to a book.


Eventually, after approximately 47 back-and-forths from pumpkin to book and vice versa, the stickers lost their stick, and we learned that non-sticky stickers inspire the same level of despair in Lyla as unprepared waffles and chicken nuggets.

So bottom line: we need Colorforms.