On Tuesday Annabella hopped off the bus from camp and told me she had gotten poison ivy in the Amazon Valley. Which is awesome, right?
I have my own doubts about whether poison ivy grows in the Amazon Valley, but she did have a lot of redness and swelling about the legs. We washed her up and applied her prescription hydrocortisone, as the area was also littered with mosquito bites. [The prescription is from two years ago, when I actually took her to see the pediatrician because of a mosquito bite on her face that resembled a golf ball. Yes, I'm that mother. Shocked? Me, too.]
Now, because I did not plan ahead, I helped her take off her clothes after applying the lotion. In that process I noticed that she had her swim suit on. Over the swim suit she had her underpants, then her shorts.
I said, “What’s with the underpants?”
Annabella replied, “We were in a hurry to get dressed after swimming and get on the bus.” OK, fair enough, but she continued, “I put my swim suit on over my underpants when we were getting ready to go swimming, but it felt funny. So I took them off.”
“Good thinking,” I said as I wondered to myself whether it could have possibly been that long since the last time I took her swimming. Less than a month, which seems odd, but then again, she’s probably on her own getting changed.
The next day after camp we had to pick up dinner on the way home, so she could be at her soccer game on time. On the ride home we talked about her day at camp, what she had been up to, etc. I remarked, “Short on time again, today? I see you’ve got your swim suit on under your clothes again.”
“Yep. I made sure to put my underpants on when I got dressed, though. This time I put them under my swim suit.” Bad mother that I am sometimes, I giggled. “Do not laugh at me, Mom!” Annabella demanded loudly.
“I’m sorry honey. I am not laughing at you. I am utterly charmed by the way you see things. It has been a very long time since I was 6 years old. You have a very unique way of approaching the world. By the way, when you get dressed over your swim suit, you do not have to wear your under pants, you can just leave them in your backpack.” This answer satisfied her somewhat, but as I kept smiling she kept glowering at me.
Which brings us to yesterday. Yesterday after camp we went into the Y, so I could get some exercise before we went home for dinner. When Annabella got off the bus yesterday she was not wearing her bathing suit with her clothes. I commented without smiling too much, “So, either you didn’t swim today or you had more time to change, huh?”
Annabella told me, with delight in her eyes, “Well, Mom, actually we did have more time to change. But I did what you suggested.”
Confused, I said, “Wait, what? What did you do?”
She said, “I skipped my underpants when I got dressed after swimming. I threw them in my backpack. I. Am. Not. Wearing. Any. Underpants!” And with that she burst out laughing like she had pulled of the greatest joke in the history of mankind.
Now I know for certain that she listens when I talk. Whether or not she actually understands what I’m saying remains to be seen.
No underpants. Commando camper.
Jun
25