Multipurposed

With the end of school coming this week, it has made for some particularly hectic days and evenings. For example, yesterday was the end of year dinner for Brian's class. This shindig was being thrown by a parent at the student's home and had all students, parents and teachers invited. Clearly this mom has an excellent pharmacological relationship with some marvelous therapist because what we are talking about here is roughly 24 first graders with at least one but often two parents in two and then the two teachers plus their spouses and off-spring. I need to steal from Lewis Black here and say that there is not enough liquor in the universe. But it was great for us in the sense that we just needed to show up and be social and have Abigail be all cute and stuff. All of which was accomplished.

However, that doesn't get to my main point. My main point was that all of this meant I was picking up Abigail by myself yesterday (whereas we usually commute home as a family unit), getting her nursed and turned around for us to grab Brian from school and head to the par-tay. So the pickup from daycare was uneventful and once we were in the car, the (in)famous yellow plastic drum stick was firmly re-established in her mouth. The (in)formal rule that I decided on was that the drum stick does not go to school -- she is not so cathetected that leaving the car requires it although I am waiting for that day to come and test my resolve.

So with choking hazard, I mean beloved transitional object, in her mouth we are headed home. And during the drive she is usually talking while Brian and I are talking so there is some dynamic mix of adult conversation and stimulating toddler interaction. She was just a touch glum yesterday because there was no after school Dada, but I did my best to tell her that we would see her soon. And it was in the course of me "chatting with" her on the way home that I caught what was the biggest geek moment of her short life since she mastered the word "book".

Abigail was in fact using that choking hazarad-come-transitional object as a light saber. Yes, folks, I have a baby Jedi living in my house. Which is apparently the age at which you are supposed to start training them so I guess I need to get on looking for that version of Gymboree for her. And before I get any haters out there, claiming that this level of nerdiness is just too advanced for her, I am telling you that her hand positioning and subsequent movements would have been enough to make a Sith lord quake. Nice to know that a bath toy can serve so many emotional needs as well as fulfilling a desire for weaponry.