When we hit the big town, I sometimes take the kids through the toy department at MalWart and let them pick some small toys. Quinn usually picks a 99-cent Matchbox car, and Lyra is usually happy with whatever I hand her off the shelf.
Today, Quinn wanted a toy camera, but the cheapest one they had was a $12 Barbie item that held a 30-second monologue in a highly annoying Barbie voice every time you pressed a button, so I just got him a $5 Kodak disposable instead.
We passed a shelf where they had life-like plastic bugs and spiders, so I took a palm-sized tarantula off the shelf, and showed it to Quinn. He kind of made a face at it, and declined the offer. When I moved to put it back on the shelf, Lyra asked to see it, so I handed it to her.
“’Pie!” she said, turning the spider over in her hand.
“Yes, it’s a spider,” I replied, and took it back to place it back on the shelf. Immediately, Lyra went into Unhappy Mode, and held out her hand again.
“’Pie? ‘Pie, pees?”
I handed the spider back to her, and she took it with much glee.
“’Pie! My ‘pie?”
“Uh, sure. It’s your spider, I guess.”
Strange kid. Quinn didn’t even want to touch the thing until it was established that it wouldn’t take Lyra’s arm off at the elbow, but that little girl was immediately fascinated by it. For the duration of the ride home, she had it on her lap, repositioning it every once in a while and making it pretend-walk across her legs.
“’Pie! Eye-wa’s ‘pie!”
I guess I need to stock up on fishnet stockings and Doc Martens, for when she hits the teenage years. I’ll need to run some heavy intervention tactics to keep her away from books about vampires…