one more candle

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Happy Birthday to mjlayman. I wish we could be singing to you in person. Looka my icon: I'm playin' it! Da da DA da DA DA...
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the kid

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Friday evening, Sarah was complaining of a sore throat. That night, she was sick four times. Next day, I took her to the doctor, who reported that the quick Strep test was 95% certain she didn't have Strep, and told me to keep putting liquids in her.

Sarah was willing to eat popsicles all day long, but I wasn't sure those gave her 100% of her RDA of anything but sugar. I put some of her lemon-flavored water in ice-cube trays and have been letting her suck on those. (Tip: If they're too big, put one in a ziploc bag and whack them down to size.) Today, she's a lot better, and after she went back and forth on it, I more or less dragged her out to Panera's for the customary bagel. Cathy came back from an errand just as we were leaving, and I asked her if she wanted to come. She declined. "Por favor?" asked Sarah. She still didn't come, but we commended her on her correct use of the word.

Sarah asked me what "por favor" meant as we were heading out. "It's how Spanish people say please. The words actually mean 'for a favor.'"

"Nobody taught me it," Sarah explained. "I just heard somebody say it. In China, where I was born. A long time ago, before you and Mommy even picked me up." We passed acres of headstones. "That's called the cemetery," she declared, mispronouncing it slightly. "It's where people bury other people who are dead. You have to be really old before you die."

I debated with myself. I decided, on balance, she might as well know, and maybe even develop some rudimentary sense of caution. "Not always," I said. "Usually, but sometimes something happens." I didn't want to make life too terrifying, but she was being analytical.

"Like when you have a bump," she said, referring to a time our car was struck from behind. I agreed that sometimes that happens. Then she changed the subject to bikinis.

"It was a itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini," she sang, mangling the words in a way I can't recall just now. I corrected her, and we sang it some. "It's my dance I'm going to do on stage," she said. Yes, in June, she'll be performing a number in the dance recital that will manage to top last year's song for being a little questionable for little girls. "I'll hold a towel in front of my face, and then I'll let it go," she said.

Not too much later, we got to Panera's and had a normal breakfast for late in the morning. The soufflees were all gone, as were the ham-and-cheese scones. I ordered a chocolate pastry for me and partly compensated by drinking water with it instead of one of their decadent hot chocolates. Sarah entertained me and others most of the time by continuing to sing about the bikini, and performing some of her steps.
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