I was concentrating on driving in rush hour traffic yesterday and doing my best to get Hanley to her gymnastics class on time when she piped up from her car seat and said, “Uncle Tim, remember when I was a baby and I chewed on my crib?”
I was busy avoiding a Mercedes changing lanes almost on top of me at that moment and not getting rear-ended by the SUV behind me, so I said, “What?” which was code for Are you shitting me, Hanley? My brain can’t handle all this right now, but what can I do for you? But Hanley was without her secret decoder ring, so she continued, “Do you remember when I was a baby and I chewed on my crib, and mommy and I laughed about it?”
The Mercedes had taken its rightful place in the I’ll-Drive-Wherever-I-Damn-Well-Please lane and the SUV was finally half a car length behind me, so my brain had room to function and remembered what she was talking about. I laughed and said, “You sound like you’re 39 and looking back on your life. Are you having a mid-life crisis?”
“No, but, remember when I was a little baby and had no hair?”
“I do remember that. It took a long time for you to grow hair.”
“Yeah! But now it’s long and beautiful.”
“Like a very modest princess’s hair.”
“Yeah!”
“Yes,” I corrected.
“Yes,” she repeated, and then added, “yes, ma’am.”
