it's not about the dinosaur

Who gives a 4 yr old a glass jar to walk around with anyway?, I asked myself as I picked up broken glass from the parking lot in the rain outside the pizza restaurant on Monday evening.

But as we'd raced out the door (perpetually late we are) she'd insisted on bringing her Grow-in-Water Dinosaur and as I'm all about encouraging paleontology but not as interested in soggy car seats, I'd acquiesced on condition that it be decanted from the plastic cup it was 'growing' in to the handiest seal-able container - an empty glass jar.

You know what happened next.

What's awesome about parenting for a while though, is that one feels no qualms about walking into a restaurant with a handful of broken glass, asking for a bin and also a glass of water please.
No ice, it's for the dinosaur.

He watched us eat pizza and then got carried carefully home in the palm of her hand to be returned, slightly fuzzy, to the cup from whence he came.

Yesterday I noticed Frieda scooping lake water with the same cup, and had a pang - all hell would break loose if that dinosaur was dehydrating somewhere.

I underestimated that big sister though - she's clearly as committed to paleontology, respecting each others interests, science and keeping her younger sibling from freaking the fuck out, as we all are.

Pity that cheap-ass dinosaur, tended so well and so long, refuses to actually get any bigger.

Nevermind, I think the whole experience moved way beyond him anyhow.