Keeping House

She leaned over the railing from above, after already walking halfway down the stairs. “I am done making one bed, Daddy,” she said, “but I still have one bed to make.”

“Whose bed do you have to make?” I asked.

“I need to make Woof’s bed.”

[Brief backstory: Tori is very much into small stuffed toys. Every night for about 2 months, her favorite owl, Hootie, was tucked into a small dollhouse bed adjacent to her own and covered with an even smaller blanket. In the last couple of weeks, Hootie has lost his bed to an aptly-named stuffed dog.]

“I thought that was Hootie’s bed,” I said, purposefully antagonistically.

“Daddy, Hootie is awake at night…he is an owl. They hunt at night.” [Thanks Wild Kratts, for helping teach her about owls]

“Then you don’t have to make the bed after all. Hootie must be tired after not sleeping last night; you can just tuck him into the bed, instead.”

“Huh…” she said. She looked down to the floor, silently gazing into (otherwise) empty space for what seemed like 6-8 seconds. She was frozen in thought, perhaps even contemplation. How was she going to integrate this new (reasonable) information into her plans for this morning?

“I’m almost done making the beds, Daddy. [she turns to run up the stairs] I’ll be right down in a second.”

I laughed…I often witness the same thing in the workplace too.

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