At the dinner table, it is not unusual for Grace to talk constantly ... to anyone or anything. We've gotten quite accustomed to tuning her out, and she's become quite accustomed to being tuned out. She will usually end up talking to the air, about anything imaginable. And we will drift in and out of her conversations throughout our meal.
Tonight, as the kids and I sat down to homemade pizza, Grace struck up her usual undirected conversation. Being very tired after playing Single Mom for the week, I proceeded to tune her out ... until I heard something very unusual.
Next to her plate, she had a piece of paper, a stray string of mozzarella cheese, and a fork. "OK," she said, positioning and arranging her pieces just so. "Here is the object, and here is the fulcrum."
I did a double-take. "What did you say, Grace?"
"'Fulcrum,'" she said as she placed the piece of cheese on the fork. "I said, 'fulcrum.'"
I must have looked dumbfounded as I stared at her.
"Yes, she said 'fulcrum,'" echoed her big brother. "See, Mommy, she has the body there, and that's the fulcrum."
And Grace continued chattering away ...
I ate my pizza in silence.
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1 comment:
WHOA...
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