Great Expectations

Thea, our three-year-old, has quite an imagination. She plays by herself a lot, and often Sarah and I sneak in to listen to the imaginary conversations she's orchestrating between stuffed animals or, more hilariously, her brother's action figures. (Nothing like having Skeletor and a Toa Inika sit down to a tea party together, and part with a hug and a cheek-peck.)

She also sings all the time and is quite a songwriter--her lyrics flow stream-of-consciousness style over whatever she happens to notice as the beat goes on, leading to such timeless hits as "I'm a choo-choo train, and I live on the coffee table," "She said she would stand on her pillow, and not fall down," and my favorite, "Loving Can Be Fun," which is just that phrase repeated again and again and which I am quite certain could could totally be a top 40 dance hit.

So anyway, the other day before I left for work, Thea found a pink pipe-cleaner she and her mother had used in their crafts the day before, which was in the shape of a heart. Since she often likes to take on the persona of superheroes (usually Superman--and she will have none of this "Supergirl" nonsense, dammit!), she held the heart to her chest and announced to me in a very loud voice,

"I'm LOVE-WOMAN!"

"That's great," I replied, beaming. "So what do you do, Love-Woman?"

She gave me a stern look and declared, "I EXPECT LOVE!"

As well she should. Just thinking about that got me through the rest of the day.

But there's a postscript. When I came home from work, she was on the couch, her hands up in claw configurations, a monstrous look on her face. Hoping to change the game, I walked up and held out my arms.

"Love-Woman," I said, "I expect love!"

"Sowwy," she growled. "I'm a monsto. I don't have love."

"No love?" I frowned.

"No. Jus' a green little heart."

You know, I think I've known lots of people with green little hearts. And Thea got lots of love, whether she was expecting it or not.