Dear Zayde,
This week I learned about offices. On Thursday, I visited two offices. First, Mommy brought me to see Uncle Brad in his office, which contains a maze of tall gray walls and friendly people sitting in corners. Some of them talk on the phone, and they all have computers. I know what a computer is because I've seen Mommy and Daddy "do work" on their computers at home. That's also how I learned about musical theater. Thanks to Daddy and something called YouTube, I now know all the words to Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Uncle Brad and the people in his office smiled at me, told me I'm beautiful, and squealed with delight when I gave them my "big" smile. Adults are so easy to entertain.
After we left Uncle Brad and his maze, we got back in the car and drove to Grandma's office. Just like the first office, this one had people sitting in corners. Unlike the first office, this one had lots of shoes in every color you can imagine. When I got hungry, Mommy brought me into a quiet space in the upstairs warehouse, and I enjoyed my milk amid the soles and heels of a thousand loafers, pumps, and wedges. I sure do lead an exciting life.
I also learned this week that avocado is slippery and delicious. Broccoli, which looks like tiny trees, is easy to hold but not as tasty as Mommy promised.
The most important thing I learned this week is that every princess needs a crown.
Mommy took me to see the most friendly lady I have ever met. I learned that she's called an "occupational therapist," which must be a fancy way of saying that she makes crowns for princesses. She works near Daddy's office, and we have visited her twice in the last few weeks. The day I met her, a thunderstorm arrived just moments after Mommy and I walked into the building. I heard the crash-bang-booms of thunder, but I wasn't scared at all. Instead, I was having a grand ol' time sitting on the floor with Mommy, playing and chatting. Ari, the bestower of crowns, met us in her "office," which doesn't seem at all like the other offices. It has a giant floor mat, with a mirror on the wall, and a portable DVD player that shows some sort of purple dinosaur singing and dancing (neither of which it does well.) There are no people sitting in corners, either. Ari likes babies a lot. She likes babies so much that I am sure she will never ever stick my leg with one of those needles at the pediatrician's office. The highlight of that first visit was when Ari placed me inside a high tech 3D scanner. She and her assistant said they were taking head shots, which must mean that they're compiling my portfolio and will soon send me out on auditions, probably commercials at first and then maybe a television pilot. Mommy explained that the head shots would also help Ari design my crown. Apparently the most important thing about a crown is how it fits a princess's head. We wouldn't want it falling off in the middle of a ball or while I'm meeting my adoring public.
This week we returned to Ari's place to pick up my crown. Again, we played on the floor mat and talked about how beautiful I am. Then Ari placed upon my head my very own crown. I'm embarrassed to admit this, but those first few moments, I was so overwhelmed with her generosity and felt so honored that I burst into tears. Thankfully, I soon regained my composure, and I spent the rest of our time there practicing my sitting skills and chewing on the teething toys Mommy keeps in her bag. By the time we got home, I'd almost forgotten that I was wearing my crown. It wasn't until Mommy took it off to wipe my spritzing brow that I remembered, and I shared with her my annoyance at her trying to take it on and off. I'd prefer to keep it on so no one ever forgets my station in life.
Mommy seems upset by this turn of events. She tries to show me a stiff upper lip, but I can hear the catch in her voice when she talks about my crown. I think I know what the problem is. She's jealous. She is green with envy every time she sees my crown because she desperately wants one, too. And why shouldn't she? My crown is awesome. It's pink and well-designed. It fits my head perfectly. Poor Mommy can't have a crown like mine. I heard Ari say that these crowns are only for babies, and we only get to wear them for a few months. I assume Mommy will get me a new crown when I grow out of this one. Maybe the next one will have diamonds. You haven't seen my in my crown yet because you and Bubbi are traveling toward cooler weather, but I know that when we see each other in a few weeks, you will agree that I have never been more adorable. If Mommy is still jealous by then, I think it would be a lovely gesture for you to get her a crown, too. Of course it won't be as special as mine, but we don't want the poor woman to feel left out.
Royally yours,
Zelda
No comments:
Post a Comment