Ella’s weekly playdates with her friend Hannah are odd affairs these days. Ella always looks forward to them, but when it comes to the actual time, she starts to get a little concerned. You see, Hannah is a Hugger. She’s a few months younger, full of energy, and always very, very excited to see Ella, who is, on the other hand, a rather reserved child.
“Daddy,” Ella said to me last week as we walked into the bookstore where we generally meet, “I don’t _want_ to hug Hannah!”
But that is beside the point of this post. Yesterday, there were no hugs. At coffee & lunch after hanging out at the bookstore, Hannah munched happily on her own sandwich and then started working on Ella’s pretzel, which she wasn’t touching. (My own fault for risking the spinach & feta pretzel instead of the reliable asiago cheese — Ella took one look at the green unfamiliar stuff and decided that it Wasn’t Her Thing.) Ella asked for a piece of ice from my iced coffee, and I gave her one. “Keep it in your mouth,” I cautioned, but instead she took it out of her mouth and smeared it over the table with an artistic flourish.
“Can I have another piece of ice, daddy?” she said.
“Ella,” I replied, somewhat sternly, “You may have one more piece, but you have to keep it _in your mouth_. If you take it out of our mouth I’m going to take it away. OK?”
“OK, daddy,” she said cheerfully.
I gave her another piece of ice and, a little while late, got up to get a refill at the counter. The rest of the story was reported to me after the fact by Hannah’s mom, Colette. As soon as I was gone Ella took the ice out of her mouth and started smearing it on the table.
“Ella . . .” said Colette. “Didn’t your daddy tell you to keep the ice in your mouth?”
Her explanation? “He’s over there!”
