Age-Old Quest
Last night the bathwater was discolored because we'd been away for the long weekend, and the rust had built up in the pipes. Cassie was dubious at first about getting in, but was finally convinced it was all right. It wasn't long after that that the brownish-yellow tint inspired a new game: as she busily poured the water from cup to bucket and stuffed her washcloth into the honey bear, Cassie told me that she was "making golden metal."
"Oh!" I said. "Did you know that there's a word for that? It's called alchemy."
"I don't call it alchemy," she replied. "I don't call it alchemy. I don't call it alchemy because that's not a good name for it."
Um, well, okay. That shut me up, didn't it? Cassie worked a little more, then confided more of her process:
"I'm adding in some plastic, to make it more comfortable."
"Oh!" I said. "Did you know that there's a word for that? It's called alchemy."
"I don't call it alchemy," she replied. "I don't call it alchemy. I don't call it alchemy because that's not a good name for it."
Um, well, okay. That shut me up, didn't it? Cassie worked a little more, then confided more of her process:
"I'm adding in some plastic, to make it more comfortable."
posted by Rosie Bonner at 8:05 AM
1 Comments:
brilliant child. Perhaps when she comes to our house to visit she can look up an alternate word for "alchemy" in our "encyclopelia" (where the almost-four-year-old looks up distances to Egypt, Russia, and New York).
--aka Marina
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