November 30, 2012
By Ekta R. Garg
Enjoy these Spurts from the last two weeks, readers!
Every family has its own slang, and ours includes a lot of references to pants. “Whiny pants,” “pouty pants,” and “giggle pants.” One day as I drove Four home from school, I teased her about something and told her she was a giggle pants.
She did, in fact, giggle for a few minutes and then got quiet as she watched other cars zip past us on the highway. After a pause she spoke up from the back.
“There’s no such thing as a giggle pants,” she informed me in a mature voice.
“There’s no such thing as a giggle pants,” she repeated. “Your pants can’t giggle.”
“But you giggle, so that makes you a giggle pants.”
“But I’m not even wearing pants,” she pointed out astutely.
“Still,” I stammered after a minute. “You’re a giggle pants.”
The two of us went back and forth about it for a little while, and I had to shake my head. When did my baby girl become so level-headed?
On a Thursday as I drove Four home from dance class when she piped up from the back.
“Is Daddy still at the hospital?”
Because my husband is in the middle of a busy rotation, he’s been coming home late some nights. Most of the time he walks in just as we’re sitting down to have dinner. Some nights he’ll rush through the door at bedtime and jog up the stairs to catch the girls before they fall asleep. Occasionally he goes a full 36 hours before seeing them awake. So when he’s busy, the girls always ask about him and his schedule.
Figuring this is what was on Four’s mind, I told her he was at the hospital and would be home as soon as possible to see her and Six.
I anticipated her next question to be something about when her daddy would be home. Instead she said, “I wish I could go to the hospital and see the patients.”
I didn’t know what she meant. “You wish you could go see the patients?”
“Yes. I want to see the patients and how the doctors take their blood pressure.”
I smiled. The girls often ask their father about what he does at the hospital, and I think they’re fascinated by the fact that he has devoted his entire life to helping others. When they get sick or hurt, more and more they turn to him for comfort as the expert source in their lives. And I’m happy they want to know even more about what he does in his career.
I wonder if I can make my laptop and editing seem more exciting.
Earlier this week I’d boiled some eggs to make egg salad for myself for lunch one day. I stored the eggs in the fridge in the same pot in which I’d boiled them and took them out the next afternoon at lunch time. Four watched with great interest as I took each egg, carefully tapped it on the counter, and began to peel it.
“What’s in this pot?” she asked, pointing to the little cooking utensil I’d put on the counter.
“Nothing. This pot is empty,” I said.
“Can I look in it?”
I nodded and watched her lift the pot very carefully from the counter and bring it down to her level. Because I’d boiled the eggs and then stored them in the same pot, about a half-teaspoon of water rolled across the bottom.
“There’s water in this pot, so it’s not empty,” Four said with a hint of a smirk as she put the pot back on the counter.