A Dinner Conversation

The other day, we were sitting down having dinner and our "normal" dinner conversations. We typically chat about the day and what Lilly's favorite part of school was and Jack tells Jim the highlights of his day (which usually include a trip to Trader Joe's, any trucks he has seen drive by our house and what trains we saw go by when we were out and about) and Hannah is very quickly making herself heard, repeating words she knows as loudly as she can.  Jim and I try to chat briefly, but inevitably, our conversation is hijacked by little people and their random thoughts.  On this particular night, Lilly interrupted our conversation telling us she had something really important to say.

                      Lilly:  Excuse me, Mum, you're soooo lucky.

                      Me:    Why am I so lucky Lil? (I thought it had something to do with me being able to
                                 stay up late or the fact that I'm allowed to make the rules or that I get to drink fizzy
                                 water, all of which are regular conversations in our house).

                      Lilly:  You're so lucky because Papa, your Dad, is SOOOOOO cool.

*At this point, Jim did a double take and almost choked on his wine.*

                      Lilly:   I mean, he does magic.  He pulls things out of our ears, makes popping noises to
                                 the "Lollipop Song" and makes wine glasses whistle.  You're so lucky, Mum.

At the risk of putting words into Jim's mouth that I may have said, I will continue on by saying that Jim and I couldn't contain ourselves.  As far as random thoughts go, this one was pretty priceless.  One of us brought up the idea that Papa, who is known for his always fashionable elastic bottom pants and tevas, probably hasn't been called "cool", or "sooooo cool" for quite some time.

We relayed this conversation to Dad this over Skype that evening, and as would be expected, this went straight to his head.  I'm willing to bet that not too many 5-year old girls describe their grandfathers as cool, but that was indeed Lilly's word of choice.  It's a story that will not be allowed to fade away over time.

I have to include an email from Dad, when all the Stephens Family were chatting about Lilly's story.  Dad, in true Dad form, wrote:  

Lilly's thoughtful and spontaneous observation is a wonderful commentary on the perceptiveness of the young mind, untainted by the cynicism and feebleness of adulthood. Jim's response is probably the same one Steve Jobs got from his mother when he said he had designed a computer. Those on the front lines of human progress have always suffered disdain. It is the price we pay.   

In all seriousness, Lilly's story just goes to show that the things children need in their lives are so simple.  Sure, there are some toys that they love, but when Lilly talks about Papa, she doesn't talk about the things he's given her.  She doesn't talk about his job or his house (or lack thereof!) or anything to do with money.  She talks about him and his "magic" and his popping noise, which she practices making all the time, and can do herself now--something that I have a hard time doing.  What a wonderful, simple world she lives in.

Papa's magic, in full force.

Papa in action--teaching Jack how to skip rocks.  Pretty cool indeed.