She's quite obviously reaching her hand into the pomegranate juice and spreading it onto her plate. We wait to make sure it is not a one time occurrence. It is a careful practice. She misses not a drop. Her hand reaches deep into the savory purple liquid, and with fine brush strokes, she carefully covers her plate.
"Ah. . . Tahlia?" I still don't have her attention so focused is she on her task.
"Ah. . . Tahlia?" A quick glance up to acknowledge the sound has reached her ears before looking down again to complete this important assignment. After all, she is almost completely done. "What are you doing?" The tone is clear. Even if you do not speak English, one would be able to recognize the tone. Even being only two years old, she should be able to recognize the tone. It is the tone of wrong doing. The tone is so powerful that the words are meaningless. The impact should be similar to when you tell your dog that she is an idiot, but do so in such a loving voice that she wags her tail and comes in closer. It is a tone of chastisement. A tone to render the being slack-necked and head-hanging. A tone to gain woeful eyes.
With nonchalance, her blue saucer eyes look up at me, and with no fault in her voice, she states, "I'm putting juice on my plate." With a final dip, she refocuses her attention to complete the final covering.
Chastised for my idiocy in not being able to recognize the current situation, I turn back to my plate to finish my dinner. I obviously need to work on my communication skills.
No comments:
Post a Comment