5 Minutes with Taylor

I pick Taylor up from preschool and deliver her to my mother's house for babysitting four days a week. It's a ten-minute round-trip, which means I have little five-minute conversations with Taylor. Teddy usually rides with me, and Taylor usually greets him with a squeal every day. And then it's a five-minute conversation back to the house. We don't get into anything in depth, but it's usually a full five minutes. Here are some recent conversations.

- - -

I stopped at the bank on the way home one day, and, as usual, the teller put a referral gift card in with my receipt. (I've only gotten a zillion of them.)

"This is for you," I said, handing it back to Taylor in the back seat.

"What is it?" she asked, glad for an unexpected gift.

"It's a gift card for free luggage," I told her. "But it's only good if you open a checking account. Do you think you can open a checking account?"

"No," she said wistfully, then a little more brightly, "but I guess I will be getting some money from the tooth fairy."

And then she told me about the story her teacher read of the child who tricked the tooth fairy by using shark teeth.

- - -

"I have had a very bad day," Taylor told me after clambering into the car.

"You have? How come?" I asked.

"My friends have all been mean to me, and Morgan would not let me have the Barbie phone," she said.

"Taylor," I said. "Someday when you're all grown up, you'll look back and see that that Barbie phone wasn't important at all. In fact, the most important thing is that you are friends with Morgan."

"But I'm not going to grow up," she said.

"You're not?" I asked. "How come?"

"Because my daddy told me that I can't grow up," she said.

I think her daddy may just have to be disappointed.