Where Her Thoughts Come From I Shall Never Know

As a child I loved carrying a purse. I remember rummaging around the house looking for things to fill my purse with. Food was usually high on the list. Cheese sandwiches in particular. Followed by whatever articles I could swipe from my Mother's vanity.

In the mornings when we get ready to go to the gym, I tell Elsbeth to go get a bag and select some items to take with us. This keeps her occupied in the car. It takes her quite awhile to make the selections and I'm sure it involves a very furrowed brow and much consternation because when I check her room later, her toy baskets have been pretty much upended.

Her choices always amuse me and yesterday as I was looking at what she had packed, I decided to interview her on her little inventory. What follows is the real conversation that occurred. I hope it makes you laugh as much as it did me.

ME: (Holding up her purse) What's this?

Ellie: My purse

Me: What's inside?

Ellie: Some toys. (she says this nonchalantly as if it is so obvious I should be ashamed of myself for not knowing this fact)

Me: (Holding up a small Etch a Sketch) What's this thing?

Ellie: A Wonkin

Me: What's it do?

Ellie: It draws a Donkin, Mommy. (again, she is not amused with my complete ignorance of wonkins and donkins)

Me: (Holding up a toy baby bottle) What's this thing?

Ellie: A bottle. It's orange. It's for feeding Mouses.

Me: Holding up a pair of mesh Barbie underwear: And what are these things?

Ellie? It's her diaper.

Me: Who's diaper?

Ellie: Cinderella

Me: Why did you choose to put it in your purse?

Ellie: So I can give it to Daddy. I need to give it to him so he can take it to work.

Me: Hmmmmmmmm.

Me: (Holding toy car keys) What are these things?

Ellie: My keys.It goes to my car. (she seems to be getting exasperated with my ignorance of what to her seems like things Mommy should obviously know)

Me: Well, where is your car?

Ellie: (again, sighing at me) In the garage, Mommy.

Me: (Holding a tiny hairbrush) Wha.....

Ellie: (Cutting me off, she seems to be tiring of my interrogation) It's a brush, it's for paper. (she's been beginning to eyeball my pen and paper) OH, I need that to brush my hair.

Me: (Holding up a pair of eyeballs) And what the heck are these?

Ellie: Oh, those are Tato's (Mr. Potato Head) eyeballs. They help me take my shoes off. (At this point she attempts to use the eyes as some sort of macgyver-esque shoehorn. The attempt is unsuccessful, but she remains unfazed.

Me: (holding a toy cell phone) What's this?

Ellie: My phone. It calls Daddy. (she is intensely eyeing me writing all of this down) She flips it open and says: Daddy can you get me a pen so I can draw? (She has not taken her eyes off my pen this entire time) She hangs up and says to me matter of factly: Daddy says I can have that pen.

Me: ( Holding up some small post it notes with scribbles on them) What are these?

Ellie: Ohhhhh, those are my messages. I need to do my messages. Can you give me that pen?

I have to hand it to her. She was persistent. And at least there were no cheese sandwiches.