Translation

I don't know at what point of motherhood that you start thinking like your child. I'm sure it is quite necessary, though, or else you may find yourself in some messes. Here is my example. I got two flower arrangements yesterday for my birthday. One was a vase of three beautiful roses from my mom and dad. I always wait in scared anticipation of when my cat will think it necessary to try the tasty flower add-ins that accompany the roses. Usually she just goes for baby's breath, though, and I think florists are getting smart about excluding baby's breath. It is a recipe for disaster. The other was a tiny, sweet flower arrangement of Christmas greenery and carnations from some friends at church. It is about the cutest little flower arrangement I have ever received. It is in a little ceramic pot and oh, it is cute.

I put both arrangements on my kitchen table. This beats the top of the bookcase where I used to have to put them out of the way of the cat. So, the baby arrangement sheds evergreen needles a little bit. Abigail has figured this is the perfect-sized arrangement for her to play bride with, and has carried it several places around the house, leaving little needles behind in a trail. The top of the kitchen table had a little pile of needles from where the flowers had started their journey.

As I sat here on the computer this morning, I heard a lot of commotion in the kitchen. I asked Abigail what she was doing, and the conversation went as follows:
Me, in the office: Abigail, what are you doing?
Abigail, in the kitchen: I'm gonna sweep this grass off the table.
(Pause)
I jump to my feet, realizing that "sweep this grass off the table" does not mean hold one hand at the edge of the table and use the other hand in a sweeping motion to push them off.

It means get out the big broom. Stand on a chair. And sweep....everything....off the table.

Good thing I reached her in time.