I am sitting at Mari's dining room table nibbling on something chocolate when Eli, age 3, bellies up next to me with an individual container of pomegranate yogurt. He is charming with little brown curls at the nape of his neck and large amber colored eyes. He and I are not well acquainted- we hang out at the same dining room table once a month for a book club- but other than that I am kind of a stranger.
Eli: Sitting down next to me and catching my eye before speaking. What kind of tools do you have?
Me: Taken rather aback by this question but then confident in my ability to answer. My house, afterall, is 65% tools right now. Well, I have a hammer.
Eli: Blinks. Unimpressed, takes a bite of yogurt and stares at me.
Me: And a wrench.
Eli: Blinks again. Still unimpressed. Another bite of yogurt.
Me: Getting a smidge desperate. A wrench?
Eli: What about a midar saw?
Me: Blinking. What's that?
Eli: Sighing. He is clearly disappointed in this interaction. It cuts angles. Like, baseboards.
Me: We probably have one of those.
Eli: And a soldering iron?
Me: Relieved I can now answer only yes/ no. Ben would be so disappointed. Yep. Yep, we have one of those too.
Eli: And a circular saw?
Me: Definitely a circular saw. Eli looks content and continues to stare at observe me suspiciously while finishing his yogurt.
Mari returns to the dining room table and I am sure she notices beads of sweat pouring down my face. "I told Eli you are doing construction on your house and you would have a ton of tools," Mari explains. At that point I know I have let this three year old down: he had high expectations of me and all I could rattle off was hammer, wrench, and screw driver. That's what I get for underestimating the intelligence of a three year old.
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