The Case of the Renegade Hippo

We're ho-ome!

Cohen is doing well; we are all doing well. It's fairly easy to feed him through the tube. I'll post more about this later. For now? Another kid story. I need a break!

What was that TV show - Kids say the darnedest things? Or something? I'm going to go out on a limb and say kids think the darnedest things too. They obviously live in an alternate universe, otherwise known as la-la land, where things are never what they seem. Or rather, things are there, but then again, they're really not. Am I confusing you yet? Hence, the premise for the big purple thing they call Barney. Why do kids actually like this show? Imagine, Imagine!... *clears throat*... So anyways, this alien-producing (HA!), la-la land creates a conversational divide between munchkins and their older, wiser counterparts (aka: boring old fogies with no patience for that which really does not exist!) that drives us INSANE when we're trying to figure out what they're talking about! Know what I mean? What do you mean there's a monster in your closet? Why are you talking to yourself? Oh, you're talking to your friend? And he has a name? And a dog? And he wants to talk to me? How nice! Tell him mommy can't talk right now, she's too busy trying to understand her crazy kid! :)

I don't know. Maybe I just didn't have a wild imagination when I was a child. Maybe I'm strange (hey, you! Shush!) but I feel like I'm cheating my child when I give her FAKE food to play with. Really! Why do kids like that stuff? I mean, who wants to pretend to bite into a yummy piece of chocolate cake? Or a juicy strawberry? What a tease! Yes, playing with plastic culinary contraptions beats eating great food any day! Any day! Woohoo! Let me salivate for the fun of it, please! That's like window shopping with no money. Or watching someone else get a relaxing massage after you just had a muscle-aching workout. Ummm, well, okay, I'm getting carried away, aren't I?

So the other night I ran over to Walgreens to pick up a prescription. I was tired, overwhelmed and facing another sleepless night with Mr. Hungry (post ng tube, pre g-tube). I was sick of running in circles, exhausted from thinking too much.

I pull into the drive and think home again, but I'm not relieved; instead, my shoulders sag from the weight of it all and I'm reluctant to dive back in. I slowly uncurl my fingers from the steering wheel, flex them a few times to get the circulation back, and open the door to head on in.

As soon as I walk through the front door I see my MIL - she looks exasperated, tired, and a bit perplexed. Then Hannah pops into view over the back of the couch. Her eyebrows arch in concern. She's obviously worried about something and I just can't WAIT to hear what it is!

"Mom, mom! Behind you! Mom, right there!" Her pointer finger jabs in the air in my direction and I think she's about to dislocate her elbow.

"She's been doing this for over an hour," MIL says, with a sideways glance at our resident drama queen. "I don't know what to do." MIL shrinks back down in the couch; Hannah stands taller than ever, or seems to at least.

"Mom, watch out!" She's serious; I'm seriously worried.

I look behind me to humor her.

"What? There's nothing there," I say.

"Right there! Right THERE! Can you see it? Can you? Can you?"

See what? What in the world is she talking about? I slowly turn about, looking for anything amiss. Nada. Of course. Except my child's overactive imagination. Maybe.

MIL pokes her head back over the couch. "She thinks she sees something over there, but I've walked over there several times looking for, well, I don't know what, but I don't see anything."

"MOOOOMMMM!" She looks at me as though I'm the two-year-old, and I imagine all the fun we'll have through her teenage years! Mom, I want --no, I need-- to have *insert something totally unnecessary that all the 'cool' kids have*! Mom, why are you embarrassing me? Mom, stop trying to act cool, it's sssoooo not working! No hugs, no kisses, Mom - we're in public for crying out loud!!!

Oh, and wouldn't it be so awesome if she had to tell me not to borrow her clothes? If I actually fit into them?! Or vise versa? *wishful thinking* :)

So anyways. She sees something. She's freaking out. I'm wondering how to calm her the heck down.

"Behind you, Mom! Mom, behind your back! Turn around, Mom!" (How many times can a child say MOM in a minute, anyways?)

Okay, I'm frustrated. Grit-your-teeth, patience out the window FRUSTRATED.

"What?! WHAT DO YOU SEE? HUH? WHAT?"

"Mom, it's a--"

Well, what are you thinking about now? Any good ideas? Oh, DUH! I guess my title gave it away :) So much for guessing...
My kid thinks she sees a 5,000 pound Hippo in our living room. Yeah, that's right. A Hippo! What next? A purple dinosaur? A freight train?

We're not in Africa, I tell her then assure here there are no Hippos here!

But she argues. Insists. Argues. Insists.

It's there. She's certain.

Then she says, "Hippo's happy. He's smiling," but as she says this, she starts to shake as if she's scared. I'm a bit creeped out myself.

But then I'm thinking we have a very lucrative future ahead of us on some major Hollywood set. Serious Oscar potential. Hello, America! Presenting the next Dakota Fanning!

"Yeah, she had me going, too," MIL says.

I think, hmmm. Let's roll with it, see what happens. So I decide to egg her on. I know, bad, right? :)

"So what does this hippo look like?"

"His ears here," she says, then indicates the exact spot where a hippos ears would be - not quite on top of the head like a bunny's, dog's or cat's, but diagonal and round like a, well, hippo's, "and his nose," she continues as she gestures the whole front of her face where a hippo's big ol' nose would be, "and his mouth!" With this, she draws a line in the air across her chin. Wow, great memory, I think as I realize that her gestures could potentially match a hippo's features -- if my kid was a hippo, that is.

"Is this hippo your friend?"

"No..." she says, like I'm an idiot and she's scowling at my obvious faux pas. "He's smiling! He's happy! He's right there BEHIND YOU! TURN AROUND!" She's getting hysterical now and her voice is getting really, really loud.

MIL and I exchange glances. MIL shrugs; I mouth weird. She nods in assent.

Then she says, "Horsey's there, behind you. Right there in the 'leven' room! And he's smiling."

Okay, enough already! I pick her up and walk towards the spot she's complaining about. She shivers in my arms and cowers down into my armpit.

"Look, there's nothing here. Just a bag on the floor," I say, showing her Jenna's school backpack still by the door.

"Oh," she says and giggles with feigned - or so I think - embarrassment.

Later, I mull this over. I think: my kid is good; she's got skills! She has me curious. Where did this whole Hippo obsession come from? And why-oh-why is she so unrelenting? And why did the Hippo suddenly become a horse?

Well, I got curious about Hippos. I googled them and learned the following - which you might already know, but my degree-rendering education did not teach me:

Hippopotamus comes from two Greek words meaning "River Horse."

River Horse.

Am I reaching here? Maybe. Probably!

But there is no way she could have known this. I didn't even know this.

Coincidence? Or...?

I'll let you decide.

And yes, this really happened.

The magic of la-la land.