, , , , , , , , ,

I’ve been teaching the child about time. Time passing, bedtime, homework time, time it takes to get ready in the mornings. In support of this, I picked up a small Princess Belle digital watch at the dollar store. She’s been wearing it proudly around for a couple days, and gradually beginning to understand how it all works. She’s gone from the first hour “Momma, there’s something wrong! The numbers are different than the ones you put in!” to matching it against all the other clocks in the house, alerting me when there’s a difference. Last night took the cake.

M: Babe, your watch says 8:24 now, that means eight-twenty-four. Your bedtime tonight is nine, so when your watch says nine-oh-oh, it’s time for sleepies, ok?
S: Ok momma, I’ll keep an eye on it so I know when is bedtime!
*Time goes by, I repair to the back porch to take a phone call*
S: (beating on the sliding glass door) MOMMA! MOMMA!
M: (thinking the world is ending) What? What? What’s going on, baby?
S: There is something wrong with this watch! This watch is broken, because the minutes are going WAY too fast! So I threw it.
M: Hold on, hold on. You thought the watch was broken because the minutes are going too fast?
M: What did the watch say? (Checking my cell to see the time)
S: It said eight-five-oh, and that is too close to nine-oh-oh and bedtime! There is no way it is bedtime!
M: So … you threw the watch?
S: Yes! It was broken. So I threw it in the trash.
M: (repressing hysterical laughter) Ok babe. That’s alright then. I’ll be inside in a moment and help you get ready for bed.
S: (departs, only to return about 1.5 minutes later) Momma?
M: Yes, baby?
S: Momma, I was thinking. Don’t buy me any more watches, ok?
M: Ok babe, no more watches.