“Hi Mommy!” Emma said this afternoon into the phone.
“Hi Em, how are you?”
This is a standard question which Emma never fails to answer with a cheerful, “I’m fine!”
“Did you have a good day at school?” I asked, knowing that she did not have a good day. In fact, Emma’s teacher wrote us an email describing how Emma was unable to focus, wept for a good part of the day, cried for me and zoned out for much of the rest.
“No you cannot go on the baby swing. It’s too small!” Emma said in answer to my question. “You have to wait over here! You have to go on the big swing.”
I knew what Emma was referring to as she was picking up on a “conversation” we’d begun before she flew back to New York. I have no idea why the swing in “Seal Park” was occupying her mind, but it evidently was.
“That’s right, Em. You’re too big for the baby swing!”
“You have to wait. You have to swing on the other one,” she continued.
“How was school today, Em?” I asked, hoping to bring the conversation back to the present.
“It’s too small for you!” Emma laughed. And then she said something else, but she was wandering away from the phone so it was impossible for me to hear what it was.
“Hey,” Richard said into the phone.
“Was she okay when she came home?” I asked.
“She’s been great. Happy as a clam,” he answered.