"So did you pick out the movie you want to watch, JoBug?" I say, as I finish straightening up the dining room.
"Can we watch that one again about the friends?" she says.
"Which one is that?" I'm trying to track through the movies I know that she likes to figure out which one this might be.
"The one from... the one... that one," she gropes for the words that will get me to see what's in her four year old brain. "We watched with the witch... and the scary monkeys?"
"Oh, you mean The Wizard of Oz!" We'd watched it the previous Friday night. And again two nights before. (Lynn and Marian had gone to see Wicked on Easter, which is why I'd borrowed it on Netflix). She was ready to watch it again. I love that she identifies it as the movie "about the friends."
"Sorry, Bug. I've already sent it back. We'll get it another time."
"Okay," she says, agreeably. "That witch was scary. But not too scary."
It's a luxury to have her to myself for nearly a full week while L & M are in Boston. I arrange my schedule at work so that I don't have any early morning meetings (although despite the fact that she's sleeping later these days I still manage to get us out of the house and on the way to school by 8:15 or so each morning), and I leave early on Wednesday to get her to her gymnastics class.
In the evening, before dinner, I tell her that she needs to play by herself for just half an hour, so I can relax and do a little reading. She usually lasts about fifteen minutes before she pops in, "Are you still relaxing?" Fifteen minutes can be a long time when you're four.
She had just a bit of a mommy meltdown the first night, but that was it. For the rest of the week she was her usual bright, happy, reasonably well behaved, chattering and singing self.
"Nonai?" she says from the other end of the couch.
"What's up Josie?"
"Call me 'Bug' again," she giggles.