What a Day!
Aug. 3rd, 2006 11:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katstalesToday was my day to babysit my granddaughter while my daughter worked. She's on the 11a-11p shift, so throwing in travel time each way and charting time, I end up watching her for more like fourteen hours--sometimes longer if the ER is busy.
Elise is almost six and it sometimes scares me how much she is like her uncle (my son)at that age with the constant questions. Today it was mostly your garden variety "Can I have a snack/drink/whatever now, Grandma?" type questions, though once this afternoon she did want to know my dog's favorite color. Because after we got the mail in, she decided that poor Boogie never gets any mail and she needed to make him some. The inch-thick stack is now sitting on my coffee table waiting to go on the bottom of my fridge. How I'm going to fit it all on there, I have no clue. (She says it has to go on the bottom so Boogie can see it...and did I ever mention that Boogie is almost fifteen and literally cannot see beyond the nose on his face anymore??? *sigh*) Not wanting to even go into the whole 'dogs only see in black and white' thing with her, I finally just fibbed and said it was blue. Yes, apparently I have no shame whatsoever...
But back to the questions. It's now past bedtime and she's fighting me about it since she's found her uncle's Nintendo DS. Finally, after much cajoling and downright threatening, she's had her bath and brushed her teeth. She finally stretches out on the couch (She prefers this to the bedroom for some reason and tonight I'm far too tired to fight her.) A whole five minutes later, during which she hasn't stopped talking once, she decides she has to go to the bathroom. Again. Fine, I agree, but this is the LAST time. She goes and takes care of business, then comes back and stretches out on the couch again. By now, the ten o'clock news has come on. There is a story about some people to the west of St Louis who are upset about a monument being moved. Little Miss Nosy just has to ask if they are going to dig up the people and move them, too. No, I explain, it's not that kind of monument; no one is buried there. It's just a plaque with some peoples names on it. This seems to mollify her...for all of ten seconds. She's now asking about what happens when they bury you. "Do they stick you in a case and throw it in the hole? Or do they just throw you in without one?" I am SO fighting the temptation here to tell her to ask her mother, all the while biting my tongue to keep from laughing. I finally settle on telling her that basically, yes, they put you in a coffin and then lower it into the hole; they do not "throw" it or you in. Now go to sleep, I demand. Now she wants to know if bugs can get inside the case. No, they seal it up tight so nothing can in. She seems to accept this and settle down. No more than half a minute later, she's at it again. Can you come back alive after you die? At this one, I'm desperately checking the clock, willing it to fast-forward to midnight so her mother can be the one to explain this stuff, but no such luck. So I tell her that sometimes, if the doctor can get to you quickly enough after you die, then yes, you can come back to life. Again, I tell her that it's way past bedtime, so no more questions; she has to go to sleep now. Yep, you guessed it. Less than a minute passes and she's at it again. What if they already buried you? Can you come back to life then?
I swear, this kid has got to be destined to be a fanfic writer...
But back to the questions. It's now past bedtime and she's fighting me about it since she's found her uncle's Nintendo DS. Finally, after much cajoling and downright threatening, she's had her bath and brushed her teeth. She finally stretches out on the couch (She prefers this to the bedroom for some reason and tonight I'm far too tired to fight her.) A whole five minutes later, during which she hasn't stopped talking once, she decides she has to go to the bathroom. Again. Fine, I agree, but this is the LAST time. She goes and takes care of business, then comes back and stretches out on the couch again. By now, the ten o'clock news has come on. There is a story about some people to the west of St Louis who are upset about a monument being moved. Little Miss Nosy just has to ask if they are going to dig up the people and move them, too. No, I explain, it's not that kind of monument; no one is buried there. It's just a plaque with some peoples names on it. This seems to mollify her...for all of ten seconds. She's now asking about what happens when they bury you. "Do they stick you in a case and throw it in the hole? Or do they just throw you in without one?" I am SO fighting the temptation here to tell her to ask her mother, all the while biting my tongue to keep from laughing. I finally settle on telling her that basically, yes, they put you in a coffin and then lower it into the hole; they do not "throw" it or you in. Now go to sleep, I demand. Now she wants to know if bugs can get inside the case. No, they seal it up tight so nothing can in. She seems to accept this and settle down. No more than half a minute later, she's at it again. Can you come back alive after you die? At this one, I'm desperately checking the clock, willing it to fast-forward to midnight so her mother can be the one to explain this stuff, but no such luck. So I tell her that sometimes, if the doctor can get to you quickly enough after you die, then yes, you can come back to life. Again, I tell her that it's way past bedtime, so no more questions; she has to go to sleep now. Yep, you guessed it. Less than a minute passes and she's at it again. What if they already buried you? Can you come back to life then?
I swear, this kid has got to be destined to be a fanfic writer...
