Once upon a time (which is code for I can't remember when), Sam had a drink with ice in it. She left the room for a while, came back, and said, "Mommy, where did you put my ice?"
I said, "Your ice melted. It's gone."
She looked at me, turned to Jay, and said, "Daddy, did you take my ice?" He answered that no, he didn't take her ice, it melted and was gone.
She asked me again, and I tried to explain what melting meant. She asked Jay and he demonstrated. Then she continued asking over and over and over. Her little three (or maybe four??) year old brain just didn't get it. "Melt" meant nothing to her.
I think of that often because it was the essence of innocence to me. Now at almost six, we have way more moments when she obviously knows more than us. The cute, innocent moments are farther and farther apart.
God must have known my heart was sad with Addi turning eight this past weekend, because he gave me another pure moment with Sam. Both girls had to go see the dentist on Monday for cavities and a possible crown for Addi, and it was my turn for doctors appointments. This was Sam's first cavity so we were curious to see how she would do and I knew I might not be able to take the girls back to school after, depending on how the appointments went.
The actual filling was a non-event. She got the special bubble gum gas and was back out of the chair in ten minutes, so I assumed I'd be taking her back to school. After Addi was done we loaded up the car with instructions to have soup for lunch and headed home to eat.
I was making lunch when Sam came in the room and said, "Mommy, can we take this thing out of my lip now?" I looked and said I couldn't see anything. She pointed to her numb lip. "Right here Mommy! They put something in my lip! I can feel it! It's big!!"
There was no convincing her even after looking in a mirror that her lip was just numb. Just like that two (or three) year old, she was all innocence.