I was in the shower Friday morning, with my head in the stream, trying to recover from sleep deprivation, when I heard the almost intelligible voice of my youngest daughter.
“Whaaat?” I asked loudly, not unkindly, as I stood upright, wiping my eyes harder than any doctor would approve of.
“We blah-ta water bluh blah-blee” was all I could make out, but it sounded important; urgent, even. I could see the vague form of a child through the mist and condensation on the shower door.
“WHAAT?” I yelled more loudly, but still not unkindly. A genuine request for retransmission.
“WE BL-OTTA WATER BLEH BLIH-BLEE!” she yelled back, not unkindly. A genuine retransmission.
It’s interesting how we tend to interpret things according to the way our minds work. Uh-oh, I thought. I opened the door a few inches. She knows the drill. She sidestepped and poked her head half-way in.
“We gotta lotta water where?” I asked, imagining my wife battling a gushing, broken pipe somewhere—muttering something, not unkindly of course, about hoping I’m enjoying my shower…
“No.” My daughter said clearly. “We gotta water my piggy.”
I blinked. I smiled, relieved, and was struck by how cute she looked in the moment. “Okay.” I said. “We will. In a minute.” She nodded once, as if to say to herself “Mission accomplished,” and padded off.
“We gotta water my piggy.” Now that’s a blog post if I’ve ever heard one, I thought to myself.
Thursday was a long day. Well, Wednesday and Thursday were long. My schedule was all jacked up because between finishing my final paper for class and going to my eldest daughter’s track meet, I was left Thursday afternoon running on two hours of sleep since Tuesday. But, in the process, I got to pick up the little shower girl at her twice-a-week preschool and this was a great serendipitous event, because she had made a Mother’s Day surprise and needed to smuggle it home. It’s really cute. It’s a grape juice bottle turned into a flower planter and all dolled up to look like a pig. Little pink felt ears, big flat round nose, corkscrew tail, the whole nine yards. Really. it’s cute. And apparently the children were given strict instructions to water the piggy every day or matters of great and dire consequence would arise.
So, you would have had to have been there, and it’s a parent thing, but try to imagine a little girl in her jammies, hair all a muss, eyes bleary, looking like she’s been asleep for about a week, with this simple but terribly important responsibility to meet. It’s cute, it’s loving, and it’s a glimmer of staying on task and meeting that responsibility. It was a great moment.
I enjoyed a few minutes more relaxation in the shower. I smiled. School was finished. I had gotten some sleep. My little girl was growing up. Mother’s Day was coming. We didn’t have a lotta water someplace. And if I totally messed up and no other Mother’s Day gifts worked out, well, at least we had a piggy.