Allie’s play in her pretend-kitchen is endlessly fascinating to me. It keeps evolving. Today, she trotted over to her kitchen in the corner of the living room and announced, “Allie make coffee for mama.” She dug around in the accessories box until she found a little tea cup, saying, “There,” as she pulled it out. She grabbed the coffee pot accessory with her free hand and then almost as an afterthought, looked at the teacup again and said, “Need to wash cup.” She put the coffee pot back down and put the cup under the plastic faucet in the sink, turning it around and around directly under the spigot. Then she looked at the cup again as if to inspect its cleanliness, then turned back to the coffee pot and shoved it in a coffeemaker type attachment on her play kitchen counter. She touched her right index finger to a sticker over the top of the “coffeemaker” protrusion, then stood back and just stared at the plastic pot. I was about to ask her why she’s all spaced out, when she suddenly sprang to life again and pulled the coffeepot out. I guess she was waiting for the pretend-coffee to finish dripping into the pot. She then made a pouring motion from the coffeepot into the teacup, then walked the teacup over to me. “Here you go, mama.”
I thanked her and said, “Mmm, Allie’s coffee smells really good!”
She was digging around in the accessories bin again, talking to herself. Suddenly she pulled out a spoon and ran back to me. “Stir stir stir,” she said as she stir stir stirred in my cup. “There! Okay, mama,” she said, and I took my pretend-sip as she watched.
“Mmmm, it’s yummy!” I exclaimed.
“Yeah!” she said, like Duh, of course it’s yummy. I know what I’m doing, mom.