Today I’m diverging from my usual blog content to share a sweet little story featuring my daughters. In respecting their privacy, I’ll nickname them Button (5 years old) and Beep (3 years old).
My husband picked Beep up from daycare while I took Button to the dentist after school.
When Button and I got home, I could hear Beep in the garage.
“Daddy, where’s my sticky hand?”
What did she just ask for? My husband had no idea what she was talking about.
“I want my purple sticky hand!” She insisted.
Did she just say… sticky hand?
“We probably left it at school, Beep — we’ll ask your teachers for it tomorrow.”
I popped my head in the door. My husband looked at me, shrugging his shoulders. “She keeps asking for this sticky hand. It must be an art project or something.”
I was baffled. How did she know!?
Luckily for us, Button has no problem going to the dentist. For her, the allure of the prize cupboard (and many new adults to talk to) outweighed the uncertainty of a stranger examining her teeth with tools that seemed stranger still.
Button was musing over her potential spoils before we had even got in the door. Her criteria are usually along the lines of beautiful, sparkly, cute, and pink or purple.
After a stellar appointment, I watched as she examined all the treasures in the cupboard.
What would she pick?
She admired the beautiful rings, which would go splendidly with her purple dress. She ran her fingers over a row of knick-knacks and glanced briefly at a sparkly pink butterfly. For a moment, she petted a purple spiky ball in the shape of a unicorn (the girls have been obsessed with unicorns lately).
Much to my surprise, she put the unicorn back and from the depths of the cupboard, she retrieved an unremarkable plastic package that looked like it contained a giant, wadded up piece of used cherry bubble gum.
“This one!” she exclaimed decisively.
It was one of those “sticky hands” that you can fling against the wall (or our lovely and ever-so-patient dental office receptionist’s face, but who’s counting?).
She made sure to ask to pick a second prize for her little sister at home. Usually she takes this opportunity to pick something entirely different yet just as charming, but this time? A second sticky hand.
How uncharacteristic of her! I couldn’t figure out how she had even known what it was, all compressed in the wrapper. If she had seen one at school before, I’m sure I would have heard about it. Nevertheless, I was happy she was happy.
Back at home, as I was processing Beep’s plight about a forgotten “sticky hand” (a phrase used only in the context of immediate hand-washing requirements in our house), Button bounded into the garage.
“Beep, Beep! Look what I got!” Button handed her the red sticky hand she had picked up for her at the dentist.
Beep was thrilled. “My sticky hand!” She shrieked with delight, and the two of them ran inside to terrorize our walls (and ceilings) with their new gummy companions.
My husband and I exchanged confused glances. How did she know!?
What a sweet synchronicity.
As I mentioned in my September newsletter, this month I’m exploring new ways to bring more playfulness to my creative practice here on the blog. I hope you enjoyed it!
