My just-turned-three-year-old granddaughter assured me yesterday that she was going to change baby Lila, her baby sister who will be born on Friday. “Change her into what?” I asked playfully. “Are you going to change her into a TOAD?” “Meemaw, NO!” “Are you going to change her into a kitty cat?” “No, MeeMaw, not that kind of change!” “I know! You’re going to change her into a BUTTERFLY!”
She stomped her little foot. “MeeMaw, I’m NOT a witch! I’m going to change her dipee!”
Somehow, I don’t see mommy letting her change the baby’s diaper, but maybe she can help. She helped me so much yesterday that I didn’t get anything done.
Not getting things done is my fault entirely, I admit! I get sucked into conversations about where the daddy chicken is, and why he isn’t there with the mommy and baby chickens, and why I have the mommy and baby ducks locked up and daddy duck can’t be in with them, and why don’t I have baby lambs this year because she wants to play with them? Well, I don’t know rightly how to explain infanticide nicely to a three-year-old child, so I just tell her that the mommy chicken can’t watch all of her babies at the same time and sometimes hawks eat the ones that wander away which makes the mommy chicken very sad, so I have them all locked up so the mommy can watch them. “But what about the daddy?” “The daddy chicken doesn’t watch babies very well and sometimes he steps on them and hurts them, but he can see them and talk to them through the pen.” This satisfies her curiosity somewhat. And, of course, the daddy duck is so big that he could squish the baby ducks by stepping on them accidentally. That’s the official explanation, of course. The real explanation is that daddy ducks will kill the ducklings to lure the momma duck to them.
The lamb question, though, is because the only freakin’* ram I kept last year was infertile. (*Insert cuss word of choice here.) I *could* go up nawth and get another one, but (a) it would cost money that I, as an unemployed person, do not have, and (b) we’re going to have a new grandbaby, so I ain’t got no time fo’ dat.