Just Chatting

"What did you do in school today, Ellie?" I asked last Thursday, as I do over lunch every weekday. But this time, she answered me. Really answered me.

"Hockey," she said. Her teachers had taught her about the game of hockey, and she played it with one of her aides and a couple of her friends, each of whom she named for me.

Hockey! We don't ever watch sports on TV here, and Paul and I haven't played hockey for years. This was a completely foreign concept that she learned about at school and successfully communicated to me!

Tonight, as we snuggled together on her pillow at bedtime, Ellie started talking about the book we'd just finished reading (Love Is a Handful of Honey). Then she made a very natural segue.

"Carl is my best friend," she said. "And Callahan. Callahan's sick."

"Was Callahan at school today?" I asked, to make sure I was understanding.

"No. Sick. And Umar sick, too."

Carl, Callahan, and Umar are all boys in Ellie's class.

Alleluia! My child is an amazement, a delight to me, and increasingly impressive at conveying her thoughts, the more abstract thoughts we've long known she has, but had such a hard time interpreting. These are the kinds of things I talked to my mom about when I was five: I learned this at school, these kids are my friends, this is who was out sick today. I've long suspected that she had all this going on inside her head, but it's far better to hear Ellie's own words from from her own mouth.

This morning started rough, but my day ended great.