This afternoon when I picked up Claire from school, all the kids were running around and playing in the big indoors playroom like normal. Claire did not see me at first, but another kid saw me and said, “Claire, your Daddy is here!”. Then Claire ran over for a hug. I said, “Are you ready to go?”, which a split second later I realized was a mistake. What if she said no? Fortunately, Claire had only one request before leaving. “I want a hug from a kid.” Before I could ask her to expand on that idea, or perhaps suggest a particular kid, a slightly older girl who was in earshot ran over to Claire and gave her a nice big extended hug. Then Claire grabbed my hand, and we headed out the door.
In the past, Claire’s stuffed animals had names that were accurate but not very exciting. She had Bunny the bunny, Longhorn the longhorn cow, and so on. I think we actually named those for her. But she has gotten more creative recently. Her stuffed kitty is named Cranberry Sauce. I think this happened during Thanksgiving when the conversation about dinner got mixed up with the conversation about her kitty. For less understood reasons, her stuffed puppy is named Salsa Bleeze. I cannot be sure about the spelling, but that is exactly how it sounds when she says it. Her rocking horse has gone nameless for a long time, but now she has officially christened it Texas Island. This just gets weirder and weirder.