Peter and Lucy spent the night last week. On Thursday at lunchtime, Peter and I were in the kitchen making lemon pudding with lemons, avocados, and dates. Peter watched me peel and chunk up lemons and avocados, and his job was to dump the fruit into the food processor. But he didn't recognize the dates. "What are those?" he asked. "Dates," I told him. "Dates? I thought dates were something you go on," Peter replied. "I'm going to ask Daddy if he knows about dates you can eat!"
Meanwhile, Lucy had the doctor's kit out in the living room. She kept running over with one tool or another. "Can I look in your ear?" she would say, or "Can I check your heart?" or "Here, put this [thermometer] in your mouth," or "Can I give you a shot in your face?" So I kept squatting down, hands covered with green avocado mush or dripping with lemon juice, and letting doctor Lucy do her work.
Winnie the Pooh is very popular these days, and Peter has taken up the role of Pooh. I have a firm position as Piglet, and Lucy is Mrs. Owl. Others are Eeyore, Kanga, and Roo as the mood strikes. Yesterday, Heidi and I took the children to met a friend and her two-year-old son for a play date. Our friend was introducing us to her son. "That is Peter, and that little girl is Lucy, and that is Julie, and that lady there is Heidi." Peter, still taking in the new situation, was standing back by the door, Lucy at his side. They were quiet, not responding to Jana's introductions, but when Peter heard Jana say "that is Julie," he spoke up in a clear, solemn voice. "Piglet," he corrected. When Jana had finished, she turned back to Peter. "Who is Piglet?" she asked. "Aunt Julie is Piglet," he clarified very seriously.
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