The way their minds work now

We made it East, driving ten days to arrive in Pennsylvania. Have already enjoyed Wegman's, Dunkin' Donuts, trees, greenery, and catching fireflies. Monday morning we got out of the car at our new building after staying the night with friends in the area, and Edith sniffed deeply of the humidity and vegetation and dirt, then wrapped her arms around herself and exclaimed, "Feel the East Coast!"

Our new apartment is on the fifth floor, and most of the windows are shaded by two huge old trees. Every time Edith goes to the bathroom, we lose her to half an hour of sitting on the toilet staring out at the leaves.

For my part, I confess I'd throw up a 14,000-foot peak in the background, but trees are admittedly pretty nice, too.

 ***

Edith calls to me from bed. I go in to see what's wrong.

"I just wanted you," she says in a cozy, sleepy voice.

"It's nice to be wanted," I say.

"Unless it's wanted 'dead or alive,'" she observes.

Well, yes. There's that.

***

I've been meaning to write more about Alice for some time, especially her love of music and dance. That will come. Meanwhile, here are some of the ways she has inserted herself in the conversation in the last 24 hours (when not simply shouting down the rest of us). 

At dinner last night Edith was talking about the grandfather clock downstairs in our building; she'd been there when it was just fixed after not working for some time. I tell her that my grandfather used to have a grandfather clock that I loved.

"Your Grandpa Uncle Bobby," piped up Alice.

Yes, I agree, surprised. My grandfather was Grandpa Bobby. And the uncle we just saw on our cross-country trip was Uncle Bob, the same name. Then I tell her that when Uncle Bob first married into the family, everyone called him "Bob Kent" all the time, to distinguish him from Grandpa Bob.

"Kent, like at First United Methodist Church in Codoralo," said Alice.

It took me a moment. Huh? Then "Yes!", I said, again surprised. Kent, like the first name of the senior pastor at our church in Colorado.

The kid never forgets anyone she's met...or heard about, apparently.

***

We were scrambling to find Edith a towel after her first shower in the new apartment. I grabbed an old faded striped one. That towel is 18 years old, I told her. 

"How do you know?" she asked.

Because I got those towels to go off to college, I told her, 18 years ago.

"Oh. How old were you when you went to college?" she wanted to know.

Eighteen, I said. So I got those towels half my life ago. Because 18 and 18 are 36.

"How much is half of 7?" she wanted to know.

Three-and-a-half, I told her. Like Alice's age.

Edith paused, then frowned. "But then 7 would be just like 8!" she protested.

I shook my head. Half of 8 is 4, I corrected. Two 4s are 8.

Alice stepped between us and held up her hands, showing four fingers on each hand, both thumbs tucked in. "See?" she said.

***

I said the word "riddle" in conversation, and Alice said she'd ask me a riddle.

"What's green and hangs off a telephone wire?" she asked.

I thought and made some guesses, all incorrect. I told her I gave up.

"A lion," she said.

Oh, I said. I thought it was something green.

"Yes," she said. "A green lion. A green lion that's hanging off a telephone wire."

Aha.