Energy
My daughter stumbled out of her room this morning, pajamas rumpled and hair in fine bed-head form. From her wrist dangled a string attached to yesterday's balloon...the helium gone, causing it to drift along near her ankle. She paused at my chair for the traditional, if not mandatory, morning snuggle.
"Mom," she croaked with morning voice, "Something's wrong with my balloon!"
"Yes, honey" I smiled, "That's what happens to all balloons eventually."
"But why?" came the standard-issue Two Year Old query.
"Well," I decided to go with with a matter-of-fact approach, "Because the helium is gone from the balloon and it can't float up in the air anymore."
"Ever?" She asked.
"No, not ever," I replied...relieved that my sensible answer had not resulted in more of the dreaded "fifth W." I turned my attention back to my computer.
"But why?"
(Sigh. Apparently I spoke too soon.) Eager to end the tiring "why" cycle, I purposed to sound adamant, "Well, honey...the balloon just no longer has the energy to float up in the air." (Similar to how I hardly have the energy for this verbal duel so early in the morning!)
A light went on in her eyes, "Did it not eat enough breakfast?"
(Wow...so she WAS listening to all those mealtime lectures! Who knew??) This realization must have caught me off guard, or perhaps I was immersed in my writing at that moment, because I carelessly muttered a very unscientific and trite, "MmmHmmm...guess not."
"But MOM!" her indignance broke my attention free of my laptop. "It doesn't have a mouth!"
(Well, I got myself into that one, didn't I?) With that, I rose from my chair and exited the room, eager to escape this 6:15am interrogation. Sometimes it's better to just let a conversation like that die.
I think it conserves energy.
"Mom," she croaked with morning voice, "Something's wrong with my balloon!"
"Yes, honey" I smiled, "That's what happens to all balloons eventually."
"But why?" came the standard-issue Two Year Old query.
"Well," I decided to go with with a matter-of-fact approach, "Because the helium is gone from the balloon and it can't float up in the air anymore."
"Ever?" She asked.
"No, not ever," I replied...relieved that my sensible answer had not resulted in more of the dreaded "fifth W." I turned my attention back to my computer.
"But why?"
(Sigh. Apparently I spoke too soon.) Eager to end the tiring "why" cycle, I purposed to sound adamant, "Well, honey...the balloon just no longer has the energy to float up in the air." (Similar to how I hardly have the energy for this verbal duel so early in the morning!)
A light went on in her eyes, "Did it not eat enough breakfast?"
(Wow...so she WAS listening to all those mealtime lectures! Who knew??) This realization must have caught me off guard, or perhaps I was immersed in my writing at that moment, because I carelessly muttered a very unscientific and trite, "MmmHmmm...guess not."
"But MOM!" her indignance broke my attention free of my laptop. "It doesn't have a mouth!"
(Well, I got myself into that one, didn't I?) With that, I rose from my chair and exited the room, eager to escape this 6:15am interrogation. Sometimes it's better to just let a conversation like that die.
I think it conserves energy.
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