"I Don't Have a Tail"

“I don’t have a tail,” Adella announces as she awakens in my bed, going from 0 to 60 in under 6 seconds. Most mornings she is up before 6, so Mom can drop her off at Granma’s house well before 7. Often, but not always, she spends the first hour or so asleep in my bed. And lately, the soporific effect of her gold blanket, an unwieldy tattered tied quilt, and her thumb extend her morning slumber an extra hour or two.

Waking is my favorite time of day with a young child (provided he or she or I am not sick). This is my reward as granny nanny—to watch once more as the world begins anew for this Child of Joy. Only hours after valiantly and unsuccessfully attempting to fight off sleep, fearful of missing something, anything, she now rushes to embrace her wakefulness.

I can only assume that to Adella her grand opening statement of the day is not a conversational non sequitur to my “Good morning.” It is as if she is continuing a conversation from the night before. 

Hoping for a little more context I ask, “Who does have a tail?”

“Daniel Tiger.”

Oh yes, it is beginning to make a little more sense. Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood is one of her favorite series. Only later do I learn that she has watched an episode in which Daniel discovers he is the only character with a tail.

I am determined to tease out more. “What about Curious George? Does he have a tail?”

“No,” she giggles, as if I should know the answer to this question. “He doesn’t have a tail. He has a belly. Like me.” And that is the end of our conversation. We hear Marshall stirring in the other room. Adella is up and on to the business of the day, I to catch a glimpse of Marshall’s happy wake up face and gurgling. I know enough to enjoy these brief moments before the practicality of life with two young children takes over, before Adella, the monkey, attempts to consume all my bananas and Marshall attempts to crawl everywhere and eat every crayon in sight.

I remember Adella’s waking statement last week, “Granma I need a pocket for my cell phone.” I really must create a list of all these waking thoughts, I conclude. Think what insight they will give me into a preschooler’s mind.

Of course, I know how long my attention span is. I also know how easy it is to pursue long-term projects with children in the house, even if they are only here twice a week. (Three times if you count weekly family Sunday dinners.) Just remembering these two statements might be as good as it gets.