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Thursday, December 23, 2004

Simple/not simple

My granddaughter came to visit. She's five, full of openness and curiosity. Beloved explained to her that I was now a "she."

"He's a she?" she asked, almost in a whisper.

I turned and smoothed down my denim blouse.

"She gots boobs?"

"Yep," we chorused.

Later, I read to her in bed. She likes this chicka-chicka boom boom book and I was just getting into the rhythm of it.

She stopped me to check out my fingernails. "Pink," she mused.

"Good color on me?"

"Yah ... yah, you're a girl all right. Girls got pink. You're not Papa Bear now."

"Not?"

"Nope. You're Papa Risa Bear."

If only it were always that simple.

--risa b

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