It’s a pleasant Saturday afternoon and I’m heading up the stairs because the elevator is busy attending to some Urgent matter on floor #5.
My roommate turns behind her and wonders if I’m able to take the stairs (I’m sick and probably should be in bed, but don’t like being in bed during the day when the world is oh-so-interesting so instead I’m out and about and tired.)
I nod, and assure her, “I’ll make it.” Mentally I add, “…eventually.”
As I proceed up the second flight, I hear the sounds of babies. I wonder, is it the family on floor 2, or the family on floor 3 (Noz and company). I pass floor 2 and ahha, I know the source of the clamor is floor 3.
My roommate opens the door, and is greeted by a short-haired, curly-crop, curious, knee-high princess with a cream ruffly top and bright floral print tiered skirt. My roommate says a cheery “hello!” and the little diva almost returns the gesture and begins a wave. I reach the door and smile and wave, (after all, I do have a soft spot for my knee-high friend) and her little hand begins to flutter into waving posture as well which butterflies into a full wave in a quick moment. My roommate enters our house and the door is mostly closed.
I am now in front of Noz- she is all that is between me and my front door- and yet she earnestly claims my attention. It doesn’t require much work, actually, for her.
She exclaims, “hello! I have diapers!!”
Inwardly, I am dying laughing at the …er… delicate yet matter of fact manner with which she chose to punctuate her greeting.
I respond, seriously, “You do? Well, where are they?”
She skips around the corner. At this point, I could easily reach my door, but I am too entertained, so I pause in front of my door, and she continues excitedly, “In my stWOLLer.” She points to the bottom part of the carriage which was waiting next to the elevator (undoubtedly delaying Noz and Co.’s outing as well, for the Urgent matter on floor 5 was apparently stopping traffic everywhere in the building).
“What kind of diapers are they?” I inquire.
She pauses to consider. She smiles and shouts, “Elephant diapers!”
At this point, her Dad hears her shout this in the hall which we share with two other apartments, and he comes out with a scooter. It must be family outdoor outing day for Noz and Co. I greet him and say hello, and chuckle as I say, “She is really excited about her elephant diapers!”
He laughs a little and sighs, “So much for potty training…”
Delighted and in Diapers. Fortunately, I’m not dealing with potty training a little diva anytime soon.
Noz’s dad says, “Say bye bye! Bye bye!” referring to me, as I’ve now opened my door and am standing there while she looks at me a little confused as to why I was excusing myself so rudely from our floor time with Her Eminence.
I shut the door and can hear her singing. She is passing time while her kindergarten-aged brother gets ready by singing a made-up song in which I catch a verse or two about Cinderella, and she then transitions into Happy Birthday (to the correct tune), and then makes up a whole other song, probably about all the exciting new things she will see and do on a lovely Saturday afternoon. Noz is one to make interesting musical arrangements, I must say.
Oh, the imagination of a 3 year old! To not have a care in the world! And to love elephant diapers! Strikes a funny chord, doesn’t it?
Now, if you‘ll excuse me. I believe I have some ice cream awaiting.
