A highly contagious virus, one of the few drawbacks attached to grandchildren, rendered me couch-bound for 7 days. Jet colored numerous “feel better” drawings for me that lifted my spirits considerably. Papa stepped into the breach to make sure she didn’t miss her ballet class on Monday. I took a “sick day” on Tuesday, but Jet returned on Wednesday with more help from Papa to handle stories and songs.
We had a very quiet day: play, bath, play, lunch, nap. After her nap, Jet noticed the design of Papa’s t-shirt. “Look, there’s a crow on your shirt!”
“I don’t think so,” Papa smiled. My husband is a fan of hawks, falcons and other birds of prey. Crows, not so much.
“Yes! Yes, it is a crow! I know because his nose has a point on the end.”
As Papa pondered the ensuing argument and his chances of winning it, Jet took matters into her own hands. “I’ll show you,” she said.
I can’t begin to describe the pride that blossomed in our retired-librarian hearts as our grandchild ran to pull a reference book to prove her point. Jet quickly flipped the pages of an ABC of birds and turned to E for eagle. “Look, see his nose? That’s a crow!”
The world stood still for a moment as our widened eyes met above Jet’s head. “She’s amazing,” I whispered.
“You’re right about his nose, but see this? This is an E, for eagle, not a crow.” Papa was so gentle in his correction that Jet barely registered that she had been partly wrong. “The bird on my shirt could be an eagle though.”
“Show her a hawk in your bird book too,” I suggested.
Papa fetched his guide to birds in North America and showed Jet how many birds of prey had hooked beaks. Jet’s fingers twitched with the desire to flip through the pages too. She quickly discovered another familiar bird. “This is a spoonbill,” she announced. It certainly was.